Harry Potter and the Secret Past
by Bookworm0913
Summary: A chance encounter, a broken arm, and suddenly Harry is stumbling on secrets that have long been kept hidden. The secrets he discovers are only the beginning, and the next several years will only bring more. Rated T for safety in later chapters Warning: Contains OCs For right now, on hiatus
1. Escaping the Dursleys

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not J. K. Rowling, obviously. This is just my attempt at playing around in that world.

Chapter One: Escaping the Dursleys

"Hey, Potter! Get back here!"

"Yeah!" We only want to have a little fun, Potter!"

A scrawny eight year old boy ducked around another street corner. Messy black hair fell into emerald green eyes behind round glasses, held together with tape. Nervously, he looked behind him. His cousin and his gang of friends had been chasing him all day, determined to beat him up.

He glanced around at the decrepit houses around him, completely unlike the houses on Privet Drive, where his aunt and uncle lived. The sign post on the corner caught his eye.

_Spinner's End? But that's no where near Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon is really going to kill me. _The boy let out a groan.

The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the street sent the boy climbing up into a nearby tree. He clung to one of the branches, peering through the wide leaves. His piggy cousin and his friends came jogging up the street. The scrawny boy held his breath, praying none of them was smart enough to look up in the tree.

Finally, the group of boys jogged off towards the end of the street. Only when the bullies were out of sight did the scrawny boy breath again. He slowly moved backward, along the branch, towards the trunk. He was almost there when his shoelace got caught on the bark. He slipped, his shoe still hanging on the branch as he fell. An ominous crack was heard as his left arm hit the ground. A few seconds later, his shoe dropped down beside him.

Tears filled his eyes as he realized he couldn't feel or move his fingers. His aunt was going to be furious that he broke his arm. Slowly, he tried to stand up, but with only one hand, it was proving difficult. Try though he might, he couldn't hold back his sobs.

A door nearby slammed open and footsteps came towards him. He looked up, through his now scratched glasses, to see a tall man kneel down beside him. The man had greasy, chin-length hair and a hooked nose, but his dark eyes were filled with concern. He was dressed casually, in a dark green t-shirt and jeans, with battered trainers on his feet.

"Are you alright?" It surprised the boy how kind the stranger's voice was.

The boy choked out, around his sobs, "I think I broke my arm."

The man stretched out his hand, running it along the skinny boy's arm, nodding when the boy flinched.

"Definitely a break," he muttered, feeling the split in the bone. "I'll get you inside where I can take care of it."

The boy nodded, picking up his shoe with his good hand. The strange man wrapped his arms around the boy. He was dismayed at how light the boy was, how easy it was to carry him into a gloomy-looking house.

In the living room of the house, he set Harry down in a comfortable leather armchair. After making sure the boy was comfortable, the man disappeared into another room.

The boy looked around, trying to ignore the pain in his arm and the numbness in his fingers. The curtains were all drawn, making it quite dark in the house and preventing anyone from seeing through the windows. The only light came from a kerosene lamp, flickering on the table to his left. A small photograph rested just beside the lamp.

He blinked and brought his hand up to rub his eyes. He could have sworn the people in the picture were waving at him. In wonder, Harry reached over and picked up the photo.

Two boys stood before a snow covered hill, broomsticks in their hands. The boy on the left had the same greasy hair and hooked nose as the man who had helped him. A bright smile was spread across his face and he was indeed waving at Harry. The other boy was almost identical to Harry, himself, but for the fact that his eyes were hazel, not green. And then there was the fact that no lightning bolt shaped scar was hiding behind his bangs.

"That's your father and I," remarked the stranger, coming back into the room, a small vial and a narrow piece of wood in his hands. "Christmas 1974, actually."

Harry looked up at him. "You knew my dad?"

"He was my cousin. Our mothers were twins," he stated. "I'm Sev. Growing up, I knew your mum, too. She grew up, not too far from here. I don't suppose Petunia's ever mentioned me, though."

Harry shook his head. "She doesn't talk about my mum much."

"No," sighed Sev, kneeling down beside the boy. "I don't suppose she would."

He uncorked the vial, pouring a blue gel into his hands. He smoothed the gel over Harry's arm, numbing the pain. He then pointed the stick at Harry's arm. A white light emerged from the wand, for surely that's what it had to be, flowing around the broken limb. A few seconds later, the light vanished.

"How does your arm feel now?"

Harry grinned. The gel's numbness had faded, too, but there was still no pain in his arm. Experimentally, he wiggled his fingers, his grin widening when they moved. His arm had been completely healed.

"Thanks, Sev!" The brilliant smile on the little boy's face sent shadows scurrying.

Sev nodded, a slight smile on his own face. "I don't suppose you'd like to stay for tea?"

Harry glanced at the clock. Sev was worried to see how much fear filled the young boy's face, even as all the color drained away.

"I have to go. Uncle Vernon's going to let me have it as it is."

Sev gave another nod, biting his tongue. He walked the boy to the door.

"I'll come back and visit when I can, though." Harry made his promise, eagerly. "Thanks, again!"

He watched Harry run down the street, back towards Privet Drive. Sighing, Sev turned back and picked up the photo of himself and James Potter.

"What am I going to do, Griffin, old boy? I can't leave Harry with those relatives of Lily's, but I've searched for eight years and found nothing." He addressed the smiling, hazel-eyed boy. "If only I had known sooner, if only I could have saved both you and Lily."

A thud sounded from behind him. He whirled around. A book had fallen off a packed, nearby bookcase. It had landed, spread open to a page near the end. Sev walked over, intending to put the book back where it belonged. He picked it up, his eyes widening as he read the spell the book had revealed. Placing a finger to mark the spot, he turned to the cover.

"Right under my nose the whole time!" Sev laughed, hard enough that tears came to his eyes. "I never even considered looking in here!"

He sat down in the chair Harry had just vacated and began to study the spell, fascinated.

* * *

Only five days later, Harry slowly walked back to Number 4, Privet Drive. He had spent the past two hours over at the cabbage-smelling, cat-filled house of Mrs. Figg. Uncle Vernon had taken Dudley with him, as Grunnings, his drill company, had decided to host a 'Bring Your Child to Work Day.' Aunt Petunia had taken advantage of this to go to a neighborhood 'Garden Tea' one of the neighbors had put together.

Since Mrs. Figg hadn't been invited, she had willingly taken Harry for the afternoon, much to his dismay. He would rather have been allowed to run around the neighborhood, so he could go visit Sev. He hadn't been able to fulfill his promise, yet.

A frown crossed Harry's face as he walked into the house. A small suitcase and a cardboard box were stacked next to the door. His confusion grew even further when he walked by his open cupboard, finding it emptied. The boy continued on to the kitchen.

He found his horse-faced aunt sitting at the table, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She looked nervously over at her companion.

A lanky, stork-like man smiled cheerfully at Harry. A mischievous glint shone in his dark grey eyes. Earlobe-length red hair held a slight wave.

"Hello, Harry," the man stated, his deep voice holding a merry tone.

Aunt Petunia didn't release her tea cup as she turned to look at Harry. "This is Virgil Netherson. He's a distant cousin of your father's. You'll be moving in with him."

"It's taken me several years to find a way to gain custody of you, Harry. Your father and I may have been distantly related, but we were as close as brothers. I'm sorry that the opposite is true for your mother and her sister," commented Virgil.

Harry nodded, dumbfounded. At long last, his wish was coming true. He'd be leaving the Dursleys. But, what about Sev? He couldn't leave without telling the man goodbye. Maybe Virgil would let him stop before they left.

"Well, I think it's time we were off," declared Virgil, rising from his chair.

Aunt Petunia nodded, stiffly.

Another smile crossed the man's face. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Petunia. It was disappointing not to get to meet you at James and Lily's wedding."

He turned and walked over to Harry, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He steered the boy back towards the front door. He paused only to collect the box and suitcase, before striding away. Harry was almost running in order to keep up.

* * *

Okay, so this is the first chapter of my attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic. Right now, I already have the first ten chapters handwritten. It's just a matter of getting them typed so I can post them! I am planning on this story covering all seven books. It's just a matter of time.

I'll accept any kind of reviews that are **constructive. **Please note emphasis on constructive. No flames or anything like that, please!


	2. A Birthday to Remember

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not J. K. Rowling, obviously. This is just my attempt at playing around in that world.

I don't normally do this, but I'm dedicating this chapter to the people who gave me my first reviews on this story. Three reviews for the first chapter, a new record for me! This chapter is for you, jessirose85, R.I.P. Jake AmaraMichelle, and shadow berklee!

Chapter Two: A Birthday to Remember

It surprised Harry when Virgil didn't lead him to a car. Instead, the man kept walking, taking various side streets, in a confusing pattern, until even Harry wasn't sure where they were.

"Um, Mr. Netherson, do we have time to make a stop? There's someone I should probably say goodbye to," stated Harry, still struggling to keep up.

Virgil shot him a grin over his shoulder. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Harry."

Another frown crossed Harry's face before he realized Virgil was leading him up the stairs at Spinner's End. As soon as the door closed behind them, Virgil's features blurred and wavered. They shifted back into the thin, greasy-haired, hooked nosed man known as Sev.

"But how? Why?" Harry's questions came out as a strangled yelp.

Sev smiled. "Your aunt knows Sev, and she would never have agreed to let you live with me, no matter how much she disliked your mother. Besides, there are too many people who would never believe I'd take you in."

Harry nodded, though he was still confused.

"It's a long story, and we don't have a lot of time to get into it," stated Sev. "We've got an extremely busy day tomorrow, so we're going to have an early supper before we turn in."

Sev placed the box and suitcase at the base of the stairs, motioning Harry to follow him. They walked into the back of the house, to a small kitchen.

The strangest creature Harry had ever seen was puttering around near the stove. Dressed in what appeared to be a black pillowcase, it was a great deal shorter than the boy. Bat-like ears fluttered on either side of its head. It turned at their approach, fixing vivid, lime-green tennis-ball sized eyes on Harry.

"Master James?" It spoke with a slightly squeaky voice.

"No, Aconite," corrected Sev. "This is Harry, James's son. He's going to be living with us, now. After you finish make supper, would you kindly take Harry's things up to his room? I figure my old room should suffice. We won't be staying long. We have a trip to London tomorrow, and then out to the coast, the day after. We'll be paying a visit to Uncle."

Aconite bobbed his head. "Supper is already finished, Master Sev."

Harry and Sev sat down at the table as the creature dished up food from the cast-iron pot on the stove into two bowls. After placing the bowls before Harry and Sev, he disappeared into the front of the house.

Before Harry could even ask, Sev was already explaining, "Aconite is a house-elf. They serve families for generations, Wizarding families, like your father's and mine. Aconite has been looking after me since I was thirteen. He's become a very good friend. He usually won't join me for lunch, breakfast, or tea, but occasionally I've been able to convince him to sit down to supper. Most house-elves devote their lives to serving their masters."

"And why does he wear that pillowcase?" Harry immediately clamped his hand over his mouth, before slowly lowering it. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask questions."

"Nonsense! How are you supposed to learn anything if you don't ask questions?" Sev gave a loud snort.

Harry laughed at that.

"Aconite wears a pillowcase because house-elves are actually slaves and presenting them with clothes sets them free. Though don't try that with Aconite. He won't accept. Most house-elves are terrified of freedom. They've been slaves for so long, they wouldn't know what to do with freedom. Though I've given Aconite as much as he will accept. He doesn't work on Boxing Day, and he gets two days off a month, to do whatever he likes. He's also an invaluable assistant when I'm brewing potions."

Harry nodded. "You said something about Wizarding families. My dad was a wizard?"

"Yes, a good one, too, and your mother was a brilliant, good witch. James was extremely good at causing trouble, but he was very loyal to his family and his friends. Lily was one of the most kind-hearted people I'd ever known. She and James were my first friends."

"You miss them, don't you? I don't, not really. I can't remember them well enough to really miss them," remarked Harry, sadly.

Sev rose and walked over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'll tell you all about them. I'll share my memories with you, so you can still know them."

Tears leaked from Harry's eyes onto Sev's shirt as he sniffled.

When the boy had calmed down, Sev returned to his seat.

"Now, there are a few rules to remember, while you're here. We eat whenever Aconite makes our meals, so breakfast is usually at 6:30, lunch by noon, tea about 2:30, and supper closes in around 6 or 7, depending on what else is going on. Also, my potions lab is off-limits unless I'm with you. If I'm working in there, you'll need to knock and wait for my permission to come in. I'll show you where it is, later. Other than that, you have free rein to roam around the house, as well as the back yard."

Harry nodded again. "I understand, Sev."

"Good. Now, finish your supper, and I'll show you to your room."

The boy eagerly dug into his bowl, finding it full of a thick, meaty stew that was surprisingly delicious.

* * *

Harry rolled over in his bed, as sunlight fell onto his face. He shot upright a few seconds later. There was no sunlight in his cupboard.

"Good morning to you, Master Harry," stated a squeaky voice.

The previous day's events came rushing back to Harry. He no longer lived with the Dursleys. He was safe in his new room at Spinner's End, across the hall from his father's cousin, Sev.

Harry smiled as he crawled out of the wrought-iron framed bed. "Good morning to you, too, Aconite."

The house elf bowed. "There are some clothes in the box at the foot of the young master's bed. Master Sev found them in the attic. He said they should fit better than the ones Master Harry has. Breakfast is waiting on Master Harry's table."

The boy turned to the small table set under the window. A silver dome covered a plate. He eagerly hurried over to the table, his stomach growling. Underneath, he found bacon, pancakes, and eggs, all still steaming. He devoured them quickly, before turning to the box at the foot of his bed.

Another smile crossed his face as he looked through it. There were several pairs of jeans and a handful of sweaters, tucked in amongst some old shirts. They were all slightly too big for him, but not as huge as Dudley's old clothes had been.

"We're definitely stopping to buy you some new clothes while we're out," remarked Sev, leaning against the door frame, several minutes later. "We'll keep these, in case you grow into them."

Harry rolled up the edges of the jeans a couple of inches, before sliding his battered shoes onto his feet.

"And new shoes, too," muttered Aconite. "Master Harry could use those, also."

Sev nodded. "Well, we have lots to buy, so we might as well be off."

He pulled out his wand, tapping both of them once. His appearance wavered back into that of Virgil Netherson. Harry darted over to the mirror in the corner. His eyes had stayed the same shade of green, but his hair was now a dark brown. His scar had vanished, and his glasses were mended.

"I'm still me, right?" Harry demanded.

Sev nodded. "Though, for right now, your name is Harry Grifflet, my nephew, if you don't mind. It's part of that long story I mentioned yesterday."

"I can remember that," he declared, confidently.

Sev placed a hand on his shoulder, turning both of them on the spot. Harry felt himself being squeezed through a very tight tube, before the feeling suddenly vanished.

"Sorry about that. Side-Along Apparition is never a comfortable experience. Neither is Apparition, to begin with, but its the fastest way to travel. I've never trusted the Floo Network," explained Sev.

"Floo Network?"

"Traveling through fireplaces, from one grate to the next."

Harry nodded. It didn't sound very safe to him, either.

He looked around him, at where they had appeared. Stores flanked either side of the street before them. Signs proclaimed things like cauldrons for sale, and owls, cats, and toads.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry," stated Sev. "There's a few things here I need to pick up, and then we'll head to Gringotts. That's the Wizarding Bank, so I can get some Muggle money."

"Muggle?"

"Anyone who's not a witch or wizard is usually a Muggle. So, Muggle money is pounds. Wizards use Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons."

He pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket, showing them to Harry.

"The copper one, that's a Knut. Sickles are the silver ones, and Galleons are gold," he explained. "Now, let's go spend a few."

The boy followed Sev, still disguised as Virgil, into an apothecary, where Sev purchased several strange looking plants, as well as some other strange sounding items. All of these he placed into a black bag, slung over his shoulder.

"You don't really use eye of newt, do you?" Harry asked, when they had left the apothecary.

Sev nodded. "Fairly often, actually."

He steered Harry past the other stores, until he came to one called Flourish and Blotts. The young boy looked in wonder around the store, amazed by the sheer number of books held within its walls.

"Welcome, Mr. Netherson," stated a wiry man, with frazzled white hair. "Have you come for your order, then?"

"Indeed. I shall also need a few other books, if you will be kind enough to find them," declared Sev.

The man bobbed his head, leading Sev towards the counter. Sev looked back over his shoulder at Harry.

"Stay right there, Harry. This will only take a few moments."

Harry nodded, absently, still looking around. He barely even noticed Sev stepping away to speak with the manager. A few minutes later, Sev returned, several wrapped packages in his hands.

"Next stop, Gringotts," he declared.

The boy followed, happily, to the large white building in the middle of the alley.

"Be warned, Harry. Goblins work at Gringotts. It's best not to talk to them, unless you have to. They are extremely proud creatures, goblins."

Harry moved closer to Sev as they entered. He watched, warily, as Sev approached one of the counters, speaking quickly with the goblin behind it. A pouch of coins was handed over to the goblin, who counted it carefully, before handing a stack of pound notes over to Sev. The man thanked the goblin and led Harry back out of the bank and back down the way they had come.

At a brick wall, at the far end, Sev tapped several bricks with his wand. The bricks slid away, revealing a doorway into what appeared to be a pub.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron," stated Sev. "The only route from Diagon Alley to Muggle London, by foot."

He paused long enough to slide the packages from Flourish and Blotts into his black bag before taking Harry's hand.

"Now, for some new clothes for you," he declared.

* * *

Harry was exhausted by the time Sev Apparated them back to Spinner's End. They had stopped briefly for lunch at a small café, before continuing on their quest to expand Harry's wardrobe.

He was pleased to have the two new pairs of trainers, as well as all the new t-shirts, jeans, shorts, jackets, and other pieces of clothing Sev had deemed necessary.

There had even been a surprise stop in a Muggle toy store, for a few games and toys for Harry. Having never owned any, not even after Dudley had gotten tired of them, it was a little overwhelming for him.

Aconite had greeted them upon their arrival, steering them to another bowl of hot stew, this time accompanied by a thick slice of bread and even a small dish of pudding for desert.

Harry had headed directly up to bed after supper, collapsing into sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

He was awakened the next morning by Aconite. The house-elf again sent him to the table, where another piping hot breakfast waited for him.

"Master Sev left early this morning, though he should be back soon. When he does, you'll be off to see Master Michael, so I suggest you hurry."

Harry quickly wolfed down the scrambled eggs and hot toast Aconite had brought up for him. He rushed to dress in his new clothes. He even tried to flatten his messy hair, though it was useless.

Sev arrived shortly after Harry had given up on his hair. The man merely shook his head.

"Potter hair never lays flat," he remarked. "Now, we're going to see my uncle, who was James's father, thus making him your grandfather."

"So, why didn't he try to take me in?"

"You'll see," stated Sev. "You'll see."

* * *

They arrived, by Apparition again, near a small stone cottage, on a cliff, overlooking the ocean. Aconite appeared right on their heels, his small arms filled with numerous packages.

Sev walked up and knocked on the door. It was opened by another house-elf. His dark green pillowcase appeared to be silk, and it was belted around his waist with a folded-up tea towel.

"Hello, Jeeves," stated Sev. "Will you inform Uncle that we're here?"

Jeeves turned dull grey eyes to look from Sev to Harry to Aconite. He nodded and motioned them inside.

Harry bit back a laugh at the house-elf. The boy had occasionally glimpsed shows and movies his aunt had watched, with rich families who had stuck-up butlers. He couldn't help but think of those same butlers as he walked behind Jeeves. The older house-elf walked quite stiffly ahead of them, his nose ever so slightly in the air.

The cottage wasn't very large, actually. There only appeared to be five rooms in the whole place, not including the cellar, whose trapdoor stood open. Four doors led off the main room, which combined the kitchen, dining and living rooms.

On the small dining table, several packages were arranged, wrapped in brightly colored paper. Aconite hurried over and added his to the pile.

"Master Michael, your guests have arrived." Jeeves walked over and called down through the trapdoor.

A head popped up, covered in messy white hair, sticking straight up in the back. The head turned, revealing an elderly man with twinkling grey eyes. He emerged from the cellar, covered in soot.

"Sev, welcome back! And, this must be Harry!" The man strode over to them. "Welcome, my boy!"

Harry had to wince. His grandfather was practically shouting at him. There was a slightly crazy look in those grey eyes. Sev had flinched as well, before waving his wand. Two earplugs shot out of Michael Potter's ears and back down the trapdoor.

"Oh, sorry. Forgot about them." Michael's voice had lowered in volume, as he reached up to scratch the back of his head. "I was working with some rather loud creatures down there."

Jeeves slammed the trapdoor shut. Harry gave his father's cousin a confused look. He hadn't heard anything in the cellar. Sev just shook his head.

"Well, let me get a better look at you, Harry."

Michael accepted a pair of spectacles from Jeeves. Bending down, he met Harry's eyes.

"The spitting image of my Jaime-boy. Except the eyes. Those must be Lily's," the older man muttered.

Sev nodded. "The exact same as Lily's, yes."

"And the scar." Michael reached out a finger, pausing just a hair away from Harry's forehead, his eyes wide. He shook his head, seeming to collect himself. "Well, the last time I saw you was exactly eight years ago, today. Not that we did much for that."

"I'm sorry?" Harry was still confused by his grandfather's behavior.

"Never mind me," laughed Michael. "Come, check out those packages on the table."

The young boy walked over to the table. He froze, seeing the tag attached to one of the packages.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," stated Sev, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to go ahead and open your presents?"

"Then, they're all for me?" Harry's voice was filled with amazement.

Michael laughed. "Of course they're all for you! It's your birthday, after all, my boy!"

Slowly, Harry reached out a hand, picking up one of the packages. He carefully tore away the paper, savoring the moment. Inside, he found a thick red and gold quilt.

"It was your father's," explained Michael. "From when he was a boy."

A brilliant smile crossed Harry's face. "Thank you, Grandfather."

"Call me Gramps," he ordered. "Grandfather is much too stiff a name."

Encouraged, the boy dove into the rest of his presents. Apparently, some of the books Sev had picked up at Flourish and Blotts the day before had included several for Harry. Most of them were full of short stories about Muggles and wizards, obviously written for enjoyment. There were a couple about Wizarding history, too. Sev had also picked up a few enchanted toys. Michael's gifts were all things that had once belonged to James, a few old photos, an old toy wand, a few old books.

"Next year, we'll have a better idea of what to get for you," confided Sev, in a whisper. "We didn't have that much time, this year."

Harry shook his head. "It's more than I've ever gotten before."

Michael was utterly shocked by his statement. "Didn't those Muggles ever give you anything?"

"Not really," stated Harry, sadly.

Sev grinned, conspiratorially. "Then, we're just going to have to make up for it."

"This is a good start." Harry grinned.

Michael seemed mollified by this. "Well, then, let's have some lunch, and then we'll get to the cake! You did remember the cake, Jeeves?"

The house-elf bowed. "Of course, Master Michael."

Lunch consisted of lunchmeat sandwiches and fried potatoes. Afterward, Michael nodded to Jeeves, before turning to Harry.

"I didn't know what kind of cake you'd like, but I figured James's favorite might suffice. I know it's Sev's favorite, too."

A thick, almost black cake, covered in cherries and whipped cream, floated over to the table, ahead of Jeeves.

"Black Forest cake." Sev nodded, approvingly.

Harry's eyes widened. First all those birthday presents and now a cake?

"I've never had Black Forest cake before," he whispered, refraining from mentioning the only cake he'd ever gotten before was the stale chocolate cake from Mrs. Figg.

"Why don't you have the first piece then, Harry?" Sev asked, handing a plate to the birthday boy.

Slowly, Harry sank his fork into the cake, making sure he got some of the cherries and the whipped cream with it. He placed the bite in his mouth and his eyes drifted shut.

"Amazing," he declared, after he had swallowed.

Jeeves practically beamed, before serving the others.

* * *

That night, Harry crawled into his bed at Spinner's End, pulling his father's quilt up to his chin.

"Sev, Gramps isn't all there, is he?" Harry asked, cautiously.

The man sank down on the edge of Harry's bed.

He sighed, staring at the far wall. "Uncle used to work with dangerous creatures. Not dragons, but almost as bad, sometimes. He took a lot of blows to the head, back then. Those aren't helping him any, now. He was already fifty by the time James was born. He wasn't quite the same after Aunt Evelyn died, and loosing your father shortly after almost, no, it _did_ destroy him. It's why he never fought for custody of you. We both knew, in his state, they'd never agree to give it to him. He's gotten better, but he still sees things that aren't there."

"I don't mind. It's nice to still have a grandfather." Harry gave a slight smile. "He can tell me about my dad, too, after all. Things you might not know."

"Yes, he could, and you'll have plenty of chances to ask him. I will be leaving at the end of August. If you'd like, you'll go live with Uncle."

Harry bolted upright. "Why? Why do you have to leave?"

He was panicking at the thought of loosing his new guardian.

"Calm down, Harry. I'm a teacher at a school for young witches and wizards. It's a boarding school, and I'm in charge of looking after the dormitories for about a fourth of the students."

"Oh," replied Harry, relieved. "So, you have to go live at the school? And I can't come with you?"

"No, not yet. You're already on the list of future students. You have been since you were born. You just have to wait until you're eleven."

"Two years? Then I can go?"

"Yes. Then you'll go to Hogwarts."

A smile crossed the boy's face as he laid back down.

"Now, get some sleep, Harry." Sev stood back up, pulling James's old quilt back up to Harry's chin.

* * *

The rest of the summer passed fairly quickly for Harry. He spent most of it learning about potions from Sev or playing catch in the backyard with Aconite, who had a wicked fastball.

Just before August came to an end, Sev helped Harry pack his things into a large trunk, before Apparating them back to Michael's cottage.

Jeeves greeted them at the door, quickly opening another door, so Sev could levitate Harry's trunk into the room beyond.

"If you need me, Harry, Uncle has an owl. Just write to me, give the letter to the owl, and he'll bring it to me. I'll write you once a week, I promise." Sev knelt before Harry, holding the boy's gaze. "I'll even be here for Christmas Day. The school year ends in the middle of June. We'll go back to Spinner's End then."

Harry nodded. "I'll miss you, Sev."

Impulsively, the nine-year-old flung his arms around the man. After a few seconds, Sev returned the hug.

"Christmas will be here before you know it," whispered Sev. "Be good for Uncle."

The boy bobbed his head, reluctantly releasing Sev. Tears shimmered in his eyes.

Sev rose, walking out the door. He looked back over his shoulder when he reached the gate in the fence surrounding Michael's property. Smiling, he waved farewell before Apparating away.

"Well, what shall we do today?" Michael asked, emerging from the cellar to stand behind Harry.

The boy shrugged. "I don't feel up to much, right now, Gramps."

* * *

So, that's chapter two, and probably the longest one I'll have in this. Hopefully, I'll have more up for you soon! Now, can you click that button down there and review?


	3. Meeting EmmaleeGrace

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not J. K. Rowling, obviously. This is just my attempt at playing around in that world.

I want to quickly thank jessirose85 for noticing my mistake back in chapter two. You're right, it was supposed to be the Leaky Cauldron. I was typing quickly and switched the two around. It's fixed now.

Chapter Three: Meeting Emmalee-Grace

The months passed slowly for Harry, regardless of Sev's promise otherwise. No longer did he have to attend Muggle school, so he spent the days at his grandfather's cottage. There wasn't much to keep him entertained. Jeeves wasn't a house-elf willing to go out and play catch, after all. In fact, Harry hardly ever saw the elderly elf. Aconite had gone to Hogwarts with Sev. Michael spent most of the day down in the cellar, battling imaginary creatures. He almost seemed to forget his grandson was even in the cottage. So, Harry was mostly left to himself. He'd already read all of his books before Sev had visited for Christmas, and it wasn't much fun playing with his toys by himself. There weren't even any neighbors close enough for Harry to go down and visit.

The games Sev had bought him for Christmas weren't ones he could play by himself, either. A blizzard had descended on the cliffs, shortly after Christmas, trapping Harry inside. So, all of his new books from Christmas were finished before the snows melted.

By the time Sev returned in the middle of June, Harry was sure he was going to be as crazy as his grandfather. He burst into tears of relief when Sev Apparated into the yard in front of the cottage. He couldn't get there to hug him fast enough.

"Can we go home, now?" Harry pleaded.

Sev nodded, surprised. "Are you all packed?"

The boy bobbed his head. The man waved his wand, levitating the trunk back out of Harry's room.

"Tell Uncle that I collected Harry," ordered Sev, nodding to Jeeves.

Once again, the elderly house-elf had appeared only when an adult was present.

He bowed. "Of course, Master Sev."

* * *

A few days after they had returned to Spinner's End, Sev agreed to let Harry visit the neighborhood park. The boy had been spending far too much time inside, becoming almost ghostly pale. It became routine, for Harry to go out to the park, ever afternoon. Sometimes he was on his own, other times he was accompanied by Sev in his disguise as Virgil.

It was almost a month after they had returned when Harry had dragged Sev back to the park. It was unusually deserted, for this time of day. But, it was also warmer than usual.

Sev sat on one of the benches, while Harry ran around, from the swings to the see-saw, to the merry-go-round. Every so often, he would call the boy over to take a drink of water, before allowing him to take off again.

It was getting hotter and Sev was about to insist they go home when it happened. A girl fell to the ground, appearing out of thin air. Long black hair fell in tangled waves around her shoulders. Bruises covered her bare arms, and she struggled to push herself up. Wide, pale grey eyes looked wildly around her. A red hand print crossed her left cheek and her right eye was already sporting a black eye.

A silver bracelet landed only a few inches from her, its glass jewels glinting in the sunlight. Dirt covered her pale grey tank top and there was a rip along the hem of her white miniskirt. The buckle on her left sandal, a pair of dressy white ones, had broken completely off.

"Mama? Mama? Where are you?" The girl screamed, her voice already hoarse.

Sev immediately noticed that more bruises were forming around her throat.

"It's alright. You're safe now. Calm down. We'll help you find your mum," assured Sev, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. "Take a few deep breaths, alright?"

He walked over slowly, picking up the bracelet. He could tell it had been used as a Portkey, but it would be impossible to trace it back to where she had come from. By the sound of her accent, though, it had been somewhere in America.

Harry approached her, just as carefully. "I'm Harry. And this is my uncle, Virgil. What's your name?"

"Em-Emmalee-Grace. Emmalee-Grace Re-Lunaris." She took a deep, shuddering breath, before sobbing out. "My name is Emmalee-Grace Lunaris."

Sev lifted one eyebrow. She had been about to use a different last name, only a few seconds before. Why had she corrected herself?

"Why don't you come with us? Uncle can get you some new clothes and we can take care of those bruises."

Emmalee-Grace nodded, slowly. "Don't try anything funny, though. My mama's a witch, and I'm gonna be one, too, someday."

She glared at them.

_I've seen those eyes before,_ thought Sev. _I've even seen that glare before. But, where?_

"That's alright," assured Sev. "I'm a good wizard."

Harry nodded. "He's a teacher."

The boy held out his hand. Emmalee-Grace took it, allowing Harry to help her to her feet. She followed them quietly to the house. Once inside, Harry led her to the same chair Sev had placed him in to fix his arm. They waited while Sev went to fetch his potions.

"Where am I?" Emmalee-Grace demanded.

"Spinner's End, in Surrey." He elaborated at her confused look. "In England."

"England? As in Great Britain?"

Harry nodded. "Where were you, before you came here?"

"New York, in America."

Sev returned, carrying a few potions. As gently as he had for Harry, he smoothed an ointment over Emmalee-Grace's bruises, being extra careful with her black eye.

"Why don't you lay down on the couch, get some rest? I'll contact the Ministry about getting you home," stated Sev, packing the potions away.

A wave of his wand mended her clothes and her shoe. She nodded, wearily. She was asleep before her head even touched the cushion on the couch. Aconite hurried into the room, carrying a blanket and a pillow. The house-elf levitated the girl long enough to slide the pillow under her head, before gently lowering her back down and covering her with the blanket.

"Did she tell you where she's from?" Sev asked.

Harry nodded. "New York, in America."

"Thank you. Keep an eye on her for a while." Sev strode out of the room.

Harry looked at Aconite. "She's probably going to be hungry when she wakes up."

The house-elf bowed and disappeared into the kitchen.

* * *

September was almost upon them, and there was still no word from the Ministry about Emmalee-Grace's mother. Without that, the Ministry refused to send her back. Instead, they had appointed her a ward of the state and placed her in Virgil Netherson's care.

At first, Emmalee-Grace had been hopeful that they would find her mother, but the longer time went on, the more depressed she became. She had even taken the explanation of Virgil's real identity without so much as a word.

Finally, just before Sev had to leave them with Michael, Harry pulled Emmalee-Grace aside.

"Have you ever thought that the fact that they can't find your mum might be a good thing? It means she's okay, but hiding, to keep you safe."

He still remembered the bruises Emmalee-Grace had worn when she arrived.

Slowly, she nodded, carefully considering Harry's words. "I'll just have to keep reminding myself of that. Thanks, Harry."

* * *

This time, time really did fly for Harry and Emmalee-Grace. For once, Harry had someone to challenge to games of Exploding Snap. Emmalee-Grace even understood all the Muggle board games Sev had gotten for Harry's last birthday.

It no longer seemed important to Harry that his grandfather forgot he existed. He had someone to play with. And it was a handful, keeping Emmalee-Grace occupied so that she didn't worry about her mother.

On a snowy morning, shortly before Christmas, Harry had happened on a pair of old chess sets that Jeeves had dug up. A gold set with onyx eyes had apparently belonged to his father, while the silver set with sapphire eyes had belonged to Sev. However, challenging Emmalee-Grace to chess proved a mistake.

The raven haired girl sank down into the chair opposite him, Sev's chess set in front of her. "I've never played chess before."

"I've only played a couple of times." Harry grinned.

Yet, within five minutes, Emmalee-Grace had defeated him, twice.

"You really have beginner's luck with chess, Emmalee-Grace."

He knew better than to try and shorten her name. He'd tried, only a couple of days after she arrived. She'd just about bitten his head off.

She looked over at him. "Apparently."

Michael chose at that moment to emerge from the cellar. "Playing chess again, Jaime-boy? You'll never beat your cousin. Not with that Slytherin cunning of his."

His grandfather laughed and disappeared into his room.

Harry frowned. The past several months, his grandfather had taken to calling him Jaime-boy when he bothered to notice Harry's presence. At first, he had corrected himself shortly after saying it, or coming back and apologizing when he realized he had mistaken Harry for his father. It hadn't really bothered Harry at first, because he knew he looked a lot like his father. However, it had become more and more frequent, when it should have become less and less.

"I think he's really lost it," confided Emmalee-Grace. "It happens as people get older, you know. For a few months, my mama and I lived next door to this old lady. She had something called Alzheimer's. She was slowly loosing her memory. Her kids would come by, and she wouldn't recognize them. She twice thought I was some bratty kid who lived in our apartment when she first moved in. I used to hear her kids talk about putting her in a home, because it was getting so bad."

Harry's frown deepened. "You think the same thing is happening to Gramps, don't you?"

"It's possible." She shrugged.

* * *

When Sev returned for Christmas Day, he brought armloads of sweets from someplace he called Honeydukes. Emmalee-Grace was thrilled with the Sugar Quills, but Harry dove right for the Levitating Sherbert Balls.

Sev frowned at Michael's cellar, where the old man had disappeared before he arrived. Jeeves had apologized for his master, but he couldn't convince him to leave.

After lunch had finished, Harry pulled out the chess sets, insisting Emmalee-Grace play against their guardian.

Unlike her matches against Harry, Emmalee-Grace was hard pressed to keep up against Sev, taking an hour and a half, before she was finally forced to admit defeat.

"Well played, Emmalee-Grace." Amazement colored Sev's voice.

A slight blush covered Emmalee-Grace's pale cheeks. "I've been practicing against Harry for a few weeks."

"And beating me soundly every time!" Harry laughed.

As the sun set on Christmas, Sev bent to bid farewell to both children.

"Next time I see you, it will be June," he sighed. "But then we'll have all summer."

"Can we visit a zoo?" Emmalee-Grace asked. "I've never been to one."

"Neither have I," added Harry.

Sev laughed. "We'll see."

* * *

So, that's chapter three. I'm still in a little bit of shock. I got five reviews on a chapter! My record was three! Wow! Keep them coming, please!


	4. Tragedy and Trouble

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm not J. K. Rowling, obviously. This is just my attempt at playing around in that world.

Chapter Four: Tragedy and Trouble

The early morning sun shone through the window, waking Harry. He rolled over and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. He turned his head to stare at the calendar pinned to his wall. The date had a grin rising to his face.

"Sev comes back today!"

The young boy bounded out of his room and hurried over to Emmalee-Grace's room. He banged loudly on her door. It took several moments before the door creaked open. Blurry grey eyes glared at him.

"What is it, Potter?" Emmalee-Grace growled.

He merely smiled brightly. "Sev comes to pick us up today."

She nodded and closed the door in his face. A slight grin crossed her own face. Something had told her she could trust Virgil Netherson when she had met him, a feeling that had only grown stronger when he revealed himself to actually be Severus Snape. In fact, part of her was sure she'd heard the name somewhere before.

A strange keening noise pulled her from her thoughts. Dashing from her room, she followed the noise into Michael's bedroom, Harry close on her heels. Neither child had been permitted into this room before.

Harry's attention was immediately caught by the walls. Photos were plastered over every inch. Most were of a young boy instantly recognizable as his father, James. A few of these also included Sev. Others held a woman with long black hair and hazel eyes. Although, a closer look revealed that her hair wasn't actually black, but rather a very dark red.

She always seemed to hold her arm familiarly around James's shoulder, usually looking lovingly down on him. After several moments, Harry finally recognized her as his grandmother, Evelyn. Sev had only had one photo of her, and he'd only let Harry see it twice. Then again, Sev's photo wasn't in the best shape.

While Harry stared at the photos, Emmalee-Grace had focused on the source of the high-pitched keening. Jeeves knelt at Michael's bedside, doing what could only be described as wailing. Huge tears fell from his eyes and his shoulders shook uncontrollably. Slowly, both children had their attention drawn to the bed. Michael lay upon it, his eyes still closed, the picture of peace. He didn't move at the sound of his distressed house-elf. It took both of them a few minutes to realize why.

"He's dead," muttered Emmalee-Grace, her voice flat.

Harry nodded, slowly. Jeeves wailing increased at Emmalee-Grace's statement.

"What in the world?" Sev's voice came from the main room.

He ran into Michael's room, his gaze immediately falling on his uncle.

"Uncle," he whispered, kneeling at the man's side. "Uncle."

He grasped the old man's had, a cold and lifeless hand. Sev's head dropped, his forehead mere inches above the clasped hand. Tears leaked from his eyes as he stared at his uncle.

"But, he was just fine last night," muttered Harry, his voice quiet.

Jeeves drew a shuddering breath, finally stopping the eerie crying. Grey eyes were now dry, no more tears to shed.

"Master Michael had most of his affairs in order, already," declared the house-elf, composing himself.

Sev nodded. "Thank you, Jeeves. Goodbye, Uncle."

Slowly, he rose to his feet. Harry followed his guardian out of the room. Tears swam in his own eyes. Here was one more loss in his life, but this was different than loosing his parents. He didn't really have memories of them. But images of his grandfather kept playing through his mind. His ninth birthday, when his grandfather mentioned Black Forest cake, his grandfather insisting on being called Gramps, his grandfather emerging from the cellar, wand in hand, covered in soot, beaming at Harry. Every time his grandfather had called him Jaime-boy, instead of Harry.

It wasn't until a few minutes had passed that he realized Emmalee-Grace had never followed him out of the room.

* * *

Raven hair was shoved behind her ears as Emmalee-Grace walked over to Jeeves. The elderly house-elf still sat beside his master's body.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" She placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

"The paperwork Master Sev needs is in the top drawer of Master Michael's dresser, the locked one," stated Jeeves. "Here is the key. Make sure Master Sev gets all of it."

He handed her a small silver key. She turned towards the dresser, before looking back. Jeeves had moved from his seat beside the bed, curling up near Michael's feet. Tears filled Emmalee-Grace's eyes as she watched the life leave Jeeves. She slowly walked over and closed the grey, tennis ball sized eyes.

"Goodbye, Mr. Potter. Farewell, Jeeves," she whispered.

It didn't surprise her that Jeeves had followed Michael into the afterlife. She had seen the house-elf's devotion to his master. She had a feeling Michael had been the only thing keeping Jeeves alive for some time, now.

She took a pillowcase, covering the house-elf, before pulling the blanket over Michael's head. Emmalee-Grace nodded once they were both hidden and turned back to the dresser. She carefully unlocked the top drawer and removed a stack of papers, neatly tied with a piece of twine.

"Sev, these are for you," she declared, carrying them into the main room. "Jeeves said everything you need is in here."

He nodded, taking the papers. "Why don't you two go into Harry's room for a while? They'll be here shortly to pick up Uncle's body, to prepare it for the funeral."

A wave of his wand transformed him into Virgil Netherson. Emmalee-Grace nodded, as Harry pulled her into his bedroom.

"We'll probably only just be in the way," muttered Harry, closing the door behind them.

Emmalee-Grace nodded and threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Gramps had a long and exciting life. Now, he gets to go be with Grandmother, again. And, I'm sure he's happier now. He's with my parents, too." Harry whispered, trying to calm her down. "At least he wasn't in pain, either."

Emmalee-Grace sniffled and nodded, not lifting her head.

* * *

A few days later, the three of them, Harry, Emmalee-Grace, and Sev, still disguised as Virgil, stood beside an open grave, as Michael's casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Rain fell around them, a gloomy drizzle, befitting the circumstances.

Through the falling water, Harry could see the small grave, where Jeeves had been placed, earlier. Aconite hovered near the fresh mound, joined by a small crowd of house-elves Harry had never seen before. He supposed they must serve other families and had been allowed to come and pay their respects.

The two children hung back, hiding behind Sev's billowing black robe as various witches and wizards came to bid farewell to Michael Potter. It surprised them both, how many people came, when no one had ever visited or sent an owl when he was living. Only a few came over to give their condolences to Sev, however. Most just stared at Michael's grave for a few moments, before walking away.

Among them was a stocky, freckled boy in his late teens. His red hair was pulled back into a short, stubby ponytail. His pale blue eyes were solemn as he approached the trio.

"I'm sorry to hear about Mr. Potter. I never actually got a chance to meet him," the boy explained, "but learning about him and what he did in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. I want to follow his example, continuing the work he did for other creatures with the dragons. He's a real inspiration."

Sev nodded. "Thank you. I'm sure he'd enjoy knowing he's still influencing the younger generations."

The boy gave a slight bow, before walking over to join a thin, balding man, also with red hair.

Emmalee-Grace grabbed Harry's arm as another man started walking over. This man had long white hair, and an equally long white beard. Blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles. He looked a little puzzled to see Harry standing behind Sev. However, before he could actually make his way over to them, he was intercepted by a man in a pinstriped suit, carrying his bowler hat in his hands. The two of them walked away, the man in the suit looking extremely nervous.

* * *

For the next week, Sev spent most of his time away, dealing with the paperwork at the Ministry. Much to Harry's discomfort, he and Emmalee-Grace were still at Potter Cottage, though Aconite was staying to keep an eye on them.

"At last, that's taken care of," declared Sev, strolling into the cottage, just as Aconite was pulling out everything for supper. "We'll leave for Spinner's End in the morning, and then we can head for the zoo, tomorrow afternoon."

* * *

Harry bit happily into a large chocolate ice cream cone that Sev had bought him as they arrived at the zoo. Emmalee-Grace was eating her vanilla one much more daintily.

"Make that gorilla blonde and it would look a lot like my cousin, Dudley," confessed Harry.

A laugh escaped Emmalee-Grace as she looked at the head-scratching animal.

The smile never left her face when they walked through the bird sanctuary. Harry could almost swear Emmalee-Grace knew exactly what the birds were saying. They seemed almost magically attracted to her as they walked by. Even the zookeeper seemed surprised. Apparently, one of the recently arrived birds hadn't been doing well. Emmalee-Grace had walked by and smiled at it. Before anyone knew it, the bird had burst into song, flying close to her. She had talked to it, too, before they had left, though Harry hadn't heard exactly what was said.

However, the joy wasn't going to last. When they walked into the reptile house, Harry went pale. He hurried to Sev and was apparently keeping their guardian between him and someone else.

Slowly, the trio walked around to the various enclosures. They stopped near what was easily the largest snake in the zoo. At first, it appeared to be asleep, until Harry leaned closer. It lifted its head and winked at the boy. Harry looked up at Sev, who wasn't paying attention to the snake. A sly smile crossed the boy's face before he winked back.

The two children stayed at the glass, Harry conversing with the snake, as Sev walked off, unnoticed by either of them. Emmalee-Grace had to laugh at the conversation between the boy and the snake. Suddenly, a shout make all three of them jump.

A rat-faced boy stood behind them, calling over Dudley Dursley. The fat boy didn't even seem to recognize Harry. He just shoved him out of the way, forcing Harry to fall into Emmalee-Grace and sending both of them to the ground. Dudley and his friend, who Harry would later identify as Piers Polkiss, pressed themselves up against the glass, staring at the snake. Suddenly, however, the two of them were falling into the snake's cage, the glass mysteriously gone.

The boa constrictor playfully snapped at a few heels before slithering past Harry and Emmalee-Grace. It hissed a thank-you before continuing out of the house, bound for Brazil.

Sev quickly hurried over, grabbing Harry and Emmalee-Grace. The trio quickly exited the reptile house. Harry glanced back over his shoulder, seeing his uncle, Vernon Dursley, moving towards him. His face was purple with rage. Harry doubled his speed, allowing Sev to lead them out of the zoo and back to Spinner's End without protest.

"Accidental magic or not," declared Sev, "we should be thankful no one was hurt."

* * *

I just couldn't resist putting in that incident with Dudley. After putting in Michael's death, I felt this chapter needed a little humor!

Edited 5/21/2011. In agreement with a review from xy, I finally removed the punishment for accidental magic. I didn't originally have it in, and I debated a long time before I finally decided to put it in. It didn't take me that long to decide to cut it. I just kept forgetting about it!


	5. A Return to Diagon Alley

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Five: A Return to Diagon Alley

Shortly before Harry's eleventh birthday, they returned to Potter Cottage. Sev mentioned wanting to get everything cleaned up and put things in storage that needed it. Aconite had already emptied the kitchen of perishable food, but they brought the necessary provisions with them.

Harry's eyes fell on the calendar he kept on his wall. "By the way, Emmalee-Grace, you've been here over a year now. I've never bothered to ask. When is your birthday?"

"I never told you. I didn't want to celebrate without my mama," she replied, surprised by the question. "My birthday's August 2nd."

"And you know mine is July 31st." Harry mused over the information for a little bit. "Hey, I have an idea! It doesn't make sense to have two separate birthday parties, right? Not when they're only two days apart. So, why don't we celebrate them together? On August 1st, the day between our two birthdays."

Emmalee-Grace let out a laugh. "It's perfect. Let's tell Sev."

She bounded into what had been Michael's room, where Sev was collecting all the photos. He quickly agreed to the combined birthday celebration, apologizing for not asking about her birthday sooner. However, he was rather reluctant to inform them of his own birthday. Harry and Emmalee-Grace eventually forced him to admit it was January 9th.

* * *

The third to last day of July, two brown owls came swooping in through the open kitchen window, each bearing an official looking letter.

Emerald green ink shimmered on the yellowish paper. The owl landing in front of Harry held out its leg. Slowly, he took the letter addressed to Mr. H. Potter, The East Bedroom, Potter Cottage, Scotland.

"They know which bedroom we have?" Emmalee-Grace shrieked in horror.

Her own letter was written to Ms. E. Lunaris, The South Bedroom, Potter Cottage, Scotland.

Sev laughed. "All Hogwarts letters are like that."

He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, scribbling a quick note.

_Greetings, Professor McGonagall,_

_Both of my charges, Harry Potter and Emmalee-Grace Lunaris, have received their letters and shall indeed be attending Hogwarts this year._

_Sincerely,_

_Virgil Netherson_

He attached the letter to one of the owls and the pair took off through the window.

"So, shall we go to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies?" Sev grinned.

* * *

They didn't make it to Diagon Alley that day. Instead, July 31st found Virgil Netherson, Harry, and Emmalee-Grace walking up the steps of Gringotts. Emmalee-Grace pressed closer to Sev at the sight of the goblins, her hand coming up to cling tightly to Harry's. Once inside, Sev approached one of the goblins, turning over two keys.

As they were being let towards the carts, they spotted a large man with a bushy black beard being led in the same direction.

"Good day," called Sev. "It's Hagrid, isn't it? Rubeus Hagrid?"

Hagrid turned and nodded. "Yer Virgil, ain't cha? We met at Lily and James's wedding."

"Indeed," replied Sev. "Though I met a great many people that day, you aren't one to forget."

Harry and Emmalee-Grace stepped forward to get a better look at the man.

"This can' be little Harry!" Hagrid exclaimed.

"Indeed. He starts at Hogwarts this September. We're here to get school supplies."

Hagrid looked confused. "I though' he was stayin' with those Muggles."

"A change of plans, thanks to a debt I owed James," replied Sev. "Children, this is Rubeus Hagrid. He's Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I'm sure you'll see quite a bit of him."

A grin crossed Hagrid's face. "I hope so. Tell ya what. You come visit me for tea, when ya get a chance."

The two children nodded, before Hagrid walked off, following one of the goblins.

"A good man, Hagrid. Very loyal to Professor Dumbledore, and a very good friend to your parents, Harry," stated Sev.

* * *

"I'm never going back in one of those carts!" Emmalee-Grace vowed.

Harry nodded, emphatically, tightening his grip on his bag of coins.

"I'm still working on a motion-sickness potion that actually works in those carts," confessed Sev, who looked a little green. "I've had a few come close, but not close enough."

He led them down the street, toward a place called Madam Malkin's.

"You two can handle this on your own," declared Sev, handling Emmalee-Grace a small bag of coins. "I have a few other errands to run."

"Related to our birthday celebrations tomorrow?" Emmalee-Grace demanded, lifting one eyebrow.

Harry bit back a laugh. She had quickly picked up that habit of Sev's, when he was trying to force an answer out of them.

Sev chuckled. "Perhaps."

The two children cautiously entered the shop. A squat witch, dressed entirely in mauve, greeted them, with a smile.

"Hogwarts, dears?"

Harry nodded, feeling Emmalee-Grace grab onto his hand again. Madam Malkin led them into the back of the shop. A pale boy with a pointed face looked rather bored as a second witch was pinning up his robe. A third witch came bustling in, a pair of black robes in her arms. Harry and Emmalee-Grace were up on stools and had robes over their heads almost faster than they could blink.

"Oh, are you going to Hogwarts, too?" The boy drawled.

Harry nodded.

"Father's taking care of my books, and Mother's already looking at wands. I'm going to drag them off to get a racing broom."

"First years aren't allowed to have them," retorted Emmalee-Grace, a nervous tone in her voice.

The strange boy shrugged. "I'm sure I can smuggle it in, somehow. Do you two have your own brooms?"

"No," they chorused.

"Do you play Quidditch at all, then?"

"How can we play when we don't have brooms?" Emmalee-Grace asked, rolling her eyes. "Honestly."

The boy seemed taken aback. "Well, then, do you know what House you'll be in?"

Harry shook his head, wishing Sev had told him more about Hogwarts. And what in the world was Quidditch? Emmalee-Grace obviously seemed to know something about it.

"Well, I'll be in Slytherin for sure," replied the pale boy. "My entire family has been, you know. What about yours? I mean, your parents were our kind, weren't they?"

Emmalee-Grace glared at him. "What does that have to do with the price of a pound of monkey bogies?"

"They really shouldn't let the other kind in," sneered the boy. "Most of them don't even know what Hogwarts is, until they get their letters. It should be kept to the old families, after all. What is your last name by the way?"

Neither of them had to answer as Madam Malkin informed them they were finished.

"See you at school, then," drawled the boy as they left.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace returned to Sev, their new robes in their arms.

"Potions ingredients, cauldrons, scales, all accounted for," declared Sev. "Textbooks already purchased, telescopes too, Just need your wands. Can't pick those out for you."

"We met a boy at Madam Malkin's," stated Emmalee-Grace. "He said something about Houses. What did he mean?"

"And, what's Quidditch?" Harry added.

Sev blinked. "I hadn't told you about Quidditch?"

Harry shook his head.

"Mama took me to a game, once, when I was really little. I don't remember it very well," added Emmalee-Grace.

"Well, I'll explain Quidditch tonight. As for the Houses, Hogwarts has four. I'm in charge of one of them. There's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. Each house holds about a fourth of the students. Slytherins are known for being snobbish and it's the House of Dark witches and wizards. Almost all Dark wizards in England have come from Slytherin, unfortunately.

"Ravenclaws are known for their brilliance, studying most of the time, achieving high grades, and so on. Hufflepuffs are loyal, friendly, and often looked down on by the other Houses as being soft."

"And Gryffindor?" Emmalee-Grace demanded.

Sev laughed. "Gryffindors are brave, often fool-hardy, and are Slytherin's greatest rival. Many famous good wizards came from Gryffindor, including Harry's parents, James and Lily. I think Hagrid was a Gryffindor, too."

Harry turned to his father's cousin. "And you?"

Sev frowned, before leaning close to them, whispering. "It's complicated, but I must confess that I was in Slytherin."

He seemed almost embarrassed to say the name. Harry looked at Emmalee-Grace. The look in her eyes told him she agreed. One day, they would learn the full, if complicated story behind this.

"Now, you two need to get your wands, and I have one more thing to go get," declared Sev, steering them towards a shop, bearing the name Ollivander's.

"Best wandmakers in the world," declared Sev. "Our family has been getting wands from here for ages."

Reluctantly, Harry and Emmalee-Grace stepped into the wand shop, as Sev disappeared down the street again.

"Good afternoon."

Shining, moon-pale eyes stared at the two children as an old man emerged from the gloom of the shop. The hairs on the backs of both of their necks rose.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I thought I would be seeing you soon. Those are your mother's eyes. Sold her her first wand only yesterday, it seems. A nice wand for charms, willow it was, ten and a quarter inches.

"On the other hand, transfiguration was more suited to your father's wand. He favored that one, pliable, eleven inches, mahogany. A bit more power, but expected with his family."

He shuffled closer as he spoke, bringing himself nose to nose with Harry. The wandmaker's long white finger came up to touch the scar on Harry's forehead.

"I confess my sorrow that I sold the wand that did it. Very powerful, that wand was. Yew, thirteen and a half inches. If I had known…"

His gaze turned to Emmalee-Grace. "Now, you my dear, I'm afraid I don't know."

"Emmalee-Grace Lunaris. I'm from America."

"That explains it, then," declared Mr. Ollivander, pulling out two tape measures with silver markings. "Wand arms out, then."

Slowly, they both extended their right hands. Mr. Ollivander started with measuring Harry, explaining as he went about how wands weren't identical and how using another's wand would never give the same results. It didn't take them long to realize the second measuring tape had started measuring Emmalee-Grace on its own, and the first was still measuring Harry as Ollivander gathered several wands.

"Try these," he declared, presenting them with two boxes, calling off the tape measures. "Oak and phoenix feather, and ash with unicorn hair."

However, nothing happened when they picked up the wands. Ollivander shook his head and took the wands back, presenting two more.

"Beech and unicorn hair, and elm with dragon heartstring."

Again, nothing.

"Cedar and dragon heartstring, and alder with phoenix feather."

When nothing happened, Ollivander chuckled and shook his head. "Tricky, eh? No matter."

Several more wands joined the pile. The children were beginning to fell they would have to go through the entire shop to find the right wands, if they ever did.

At last, Ollivander muttered something about wondering and he disappeared into the back of the shop.

"This one has been lying around back there for ages," declared Ollivander, cradling the two boxes reverently, before handing the top one to Emmalee-Grace. "Holly and dragon heartstring, ten and three quarters inches."

He then handed the second box to Harry. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Give them a wave."

A glow seemed to surround them both as they picked up the wands, with a gentle breeze following.

"Curious," remarked Ollivander, placing both wands back in their boxes. "Most curious indeed."

"Beg pardon?" Emmalee-Grace asked.

The wandmaker shrugged. "Oh, not about your wand, Miss Lunaris. No, it's Mr. Potter's wand that is so curious. It's brother is the one that gave him his scar. Only one other feather came from that phoenix. Great things, Mr. Potter, will be expected from you."

Harry gulped, nervously. He hurried to turn over the seven galleons for his wand, and then he allowed Emmalee-Grace to pay ten for hers.

"Good day, Mr. Ollivander," called Emmalee-Grace as they exited the shop.

* * *

Harry tossed another treat towards his snowy owl. She bobbed her head forward, deftly catching the food.

"Have you decided on a name for her?" Emmalee-Grace asked. "I've already decided on mine."

She ran a hand over the sleek, inky black feathers of her own owl.

"Hedwig. I got it out of _A History of Magic_."

Emmalee-Grace smiled. "His comes from _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi._ He's Asphodel."

"Asphodel? One of the main ingredients in the Draught of Living Death," declared Sev, carrying a tea tray into the room, it being one of Aconite's days off. "An interesting choice, Emmalee-Grace."

"Sev." Harry was hesitant, afraid to ask the question. "What really happened to my parents? Aunt Petunia always said it was a car crash."

"I suppose I expected too much of Petunia to believe she'd tell you the truth. And I should explain a few things before you leave for Hogwarts. I won't act there the same way I do here." Sev sighed. "Several years ago, before you were born, a Dark, and I mean very Dark, wizard rose to power. His name is still not spoken by most people. He called himself Lord Voldemort."

Shudders ran down the spines of both children at the name.

"Most people call him You-Know-Who, or even He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named. Like most Dark wizards, he was from Slytherin. Now, this Dark Lord was destroying everyone who stood in his way, and he had a group of very loyal followers, called Death Eaters. When I started school, I went into Slytherin because I wanted to spy on them, thinking I could find a way to bring him down from within. James knew of my plan, so, at school, we pretended to hate each other. We fought all the time. He was constantly pranking me and the other Slytherins, that sort of thing.

"Well, on Halloween, just after your first birthday, Harry, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named found your parents, who had gone into hiding. They were among those who most strongly stood against him. He killed James first, from what everyone can figure out. Then, he went after Lily, who gave her life to keep you safe." Tears filled his eyes by this point, and his voice had lowered in volume. "Then, he turned his wand on you. But, somehow, the curse rebounded on him, leaving you with that scar, and an orphan."

Emmalee-Grace wrapped her arms around Harry. Tears shimmered in both of their eyes.

"Most people don't know how you survived. Some of us have our suspicions, but no evidence to back them. However, the Dark Lord disappeared that night. Some of us believe he's still out there, biding his time, regaining his strength. The last time I saw him, he wasn't very human, anymore."

"If he is still alive, do you think he'd come after me again?" Harry asked, quietly.

Sev nodded. "You'll be safe at Hogwarts, Harry. He never feared anyone the way he feared Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. Now, then, I was going to explain Quidditch!"

* * *

I apologize. I have a hard time writing Hagrid's way of talking. I hopefully will have the next chapter up in the next couple of days. I've got a lot of hours to put in at work, so I can't type things up as quickly as I'd like. So, now is the time I plead for your reviews! Thanks!


	6. Hogwarts, Here We Come!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Okay, in response to a comment from xy, the reason Harry wasn't sent back to school was that Potter Cottage is a little isolated, as noted by Harry's lack of socializing while there. The nearest school is quite a ways away, so Sev made do with educational books for Harry to read during the school year. If that makes sense. He couldn't actually home school Harry, being at Hogwarts, and Michael was certainly in no shape to do so, either. I doubt they'd allow house-elves to teach, either. And you can hardly have expected Jeeves to take Harry to school everyday and leave Michael alone!

Chapter Six: Hogwarts, Here We Come!

The last day of August, Sev stood in the living room of Spinner's End, Harry and Emmalee-Grace before him.

"Now, behave for Aconite. He'll take you to King's Cross Station, tomorrow. Remember, Platform 9 3/4, for the Hogwarts Express. I'll see you up at the school. And, Harry, remember, I won't be myself at Hogwarts. Everyone there thinks I hated James, so they expect me to hate you as well."

"One more protection, in case the Dark Lord really is alive," stated Emmalee-Grace. "He won't expect you to be looking after Harry."

"Precisely," replied Sev. "Now, are you two all packed?"

They both nodded.

"And both trunks are already by the door, to make things easier for Aconite," added Harry.

Sev knelt and hugged them both. "We'll stay at the school for Christmas, but I'll find a way for us to celebrate together. I'll see both of you at the Welcoming Feast, tomorrow."

He rose and grabbed hold of his own trunk, Disapparating on the spot.

Emmalee-Grace turned to Harry and smiled. "Ready to see your first Quidditch match after we get there?"

"Absolutely," declared Harry.

* * *

Aconite dropped them off near the entrance to King's Cross, staying only long enough to make sure they got their trunks onto carts, before he returned to Hogwarts and Sev.

"So, um, where's Platform 9 3/4?" Harry asked, pushing his trunk over between Platforms 9 and 10.

His companion shrugged. "No clue. Wish they'd have mentioned that before they left."

"Filled with Muggles, of course," stated a woman's voice.

A grin crossed Harry's face. The two of them hurried after a heavy-set woman, surrounded by a group of red-haired children, most of whom were boys.

"I'd hate to be her," whispered Emmalee-Grace. "That little girl, with at least four older brothers?"

Harry shrugged. "Are you sure they're all siblings? We aren't."

"But what exactly am I, anyway? If anybody asks?"

"Besides my best friend? My foster cousin. I asked Sev last night. It's close enough to what you are."

She gave him another smile.

They had almost caught up with the woman when the oldest boy approached the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, disappearing through it. They both blinked, before moving even faster towards the family. A pair, who were obviously twins, were giving their mother a hard time, before they also disappeared through the barrier.

"Excuse us," called Harry, finally reaching them.

"Oh, is it your first time to Hogwarts, dears?" The woman smiled kindly at them. "It's also Ron's first year."

"Yes," panted Emmalee-Grace. "But we don't…"

"Know how to get on the Platform?"

They nodded.

"You just walk right at the barrier between 9 and 10. Go ahead and take a bit of a run, if you're nervous."

"Thank you," stated Harry, pointing his cart towards the barrier.

He nodded to Emmalee-Grace and hurried through. She went after him, almost on his heels, closing her eyes right before she expected to collide with the wall. Instead, she kept on running, opening her eyes to see a scarlet engine at the front of a long line of cars.

"Emmalee-Grace, over here," called Harry.

She ran over to where the twins from earlier were helping Harry load his trunk.

"Thanks," said Harry, once both trunks were stored. "We'd have been lost without your family."

"Not a problem," the twins chorused.

They stopped short as Harry shoved a hand through his hair, inadvertently revealing his scar.

"Blimey. You're him, aren't you?" One of the twins stammered out.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!"

"Oh," muttered Harry, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, I am."

"Wicked!"

They disappeared out of the car, to talk with their recently arrived younger siblings and their mother.

"Hey, Mum, remember that lost looking boy in the station?" One of the twins called out.

"Yes, such a sweet boy, he was, too, as well as his sister."

Harry and Emmalee-Grace both bit back a laugh. It actually wasn't the first time someone had mistaken them for siblings. Sev often said they acted as if they were.

"I don't think she's his sister," replied the other twin, "because he's Harry Potter!"

"Really? Can I go and meet him, Mum?" Their sister jumped up eagerly.

"No, Ginny, you can't. That poor boy. No wonder they didn't know how to get on the platform."

Harry sank back into the seat, next to Emmalee-Grace. They listened to the family, laughing when the twins promised to send their sister a Hogwarts toilet seat.

The door of the compartment slid open a short time later. It revealed the youngest brother of the red-haired family.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," declared Harry, at Emmalee-Grace's nod.

"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy introduced himself.

"Harry Potter and this is my foster cousin."

"Emmalee-Grace Lunaris."

"So, Harry, do you really have the um, the…" Ron asked, nervously.

"The scar?" Harry concluded.

Ron nodded. Grinning, Harry lifted his bangs to reveal the lightning bolt.

"I bet you're going to get a lot of that," stated Emmalee-Grace. "Sounds like you're pretty famous."

"Pretty famous? Every witch and wizard knows the name of Harry Potter," scoffed Ron.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" An elderly witch poked her head in, sliding the door open to reveal a cart full of sweets.

"Droobles, definitely," declared Emmalee-Grace.

"Virgil didn't get you enough for your birthday?" Harry exclaimed, astonished.

She shook her head. "I need to save it. Who knows when I'll get more?"

They were sharing the candy they had purchased with Ron when another visitor appeared.

"Excuse me. Have you seen a toad anywhere?"

A boy stood in the doorway. His round face was quite fearful.

"Sorry, I can't say we have," said Harry.

"I've lost him again! The boy was practically sobbing. "He just keeps running away from me!"

Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes as he moved to the next compartment.

"Fancy having a toad. I'd loose it on purpose," declared Ron. "Then, again, I don't have much room to talk."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old grey rat.

"This is Scabbers. He used to belong to my older brother, Percy. But, he made prefect, so my parents bought him an owl."

"I didn't know rats were on the list of approved animals. I thought it was a cat, toad, or owl." Emmalee-Grace looked puzzled.

Ron was spared having to answer when someone else approached the compartment door.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" A girl with bushy brown hair asked. "A boy named Neville seems to have misplaced his."

Harry shook his head. "Not since he asked us, himself."

She sighed, then she noticed Ron's wand. It had fallen out of his pocket a while back, and he was still holding it.

"Are you doing magic, then?"

Ron shrugged. "My older brothers did give me one spell to try."

He cleared his throat and pointed his wand at Scabbers.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

However, nothing happened.

"Is your brother a prankster, then?" Emmalee-Grace asked.

"A bit, I suppose," said the red-haired boy.

"It doesn't sound like any spell I've read. I've even tried a few of the simple ones, myself, and they all worked just fine. Bit surprising when you think about how I'm the first in my family to have magic." The new girl was talking quite rapidly and the other three were having a hard time keeping up. "Any idea what House you'll be in? I thought about Gryffindor. Dumbledore was in that house, after all. Though, Ravenclaw wouldn't be too horrible, I suppose. Oh, sorry. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Ron Weasley."

"Emmalee-Grace Lunaris."

"Harry Potter."

"Really?" Hermione exclaimed. "I've read so much about you!"

She then proceeded to list off a number of books in which Harry was mentioned. The three had to blink in amazement as she listed them.

"Shouldn't you be helping Neville find his toad?" Ron said at last, annoyed.

Hermione glared at him, before stalking off.

Before they could resume their previous conversation, another annoyance appeared, in the form of a familiar pale-faced boy.

"Rumor on the train has it Harry Potter is in this compartment," he drawled.

He was flanked by two larger boys, both with extremely thick expressions on their faces.

Harry rose. "That would be me."

The pale boy blinked, before extending his hand.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he stated, before looking at the other two in the compartment.

Ron let out a snort at the boy's name.

"Think it's a funny name, Weasley? With that red hair and those hand-me-down robes, you can't be anything else," remarked Draco Malfoy. "And you?"

"Emmalee-Grace Lunaris, Harry's foster cousin."

"You two don't want to go making friends with the wrong sot of people. I can help you out, if you'd like."

Malfoy extended his hand a little farther.

"I think we can figure out who's the wrong sort for ourselves," stated Harry, placing his hands in his pockets.

Malfoy sneered. "Careful, Potter, or you'll meet the same, sticky end as your parents."

He stormed away, his cronies following him.

"Well, now that that's settled," stated Emmalee-Grace, looking at her watch, "I'd better find a compartment to change into my school robes. See you boys in a little while."

* * *

The train at last came to a stop, after the sun had set.

"Firs' Years, this way!" Hagrid towered over the students, a lantern held aloft. "Firs' Years, over here!"

Emmalee-Grace smiled at Harry. They hurried over to Hagrid, eager to say hello.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Harry's friend," stated Hagrid, looking down at them.

She smiled, again. "It's Emmalee-Grace."

"Well, welcome. Come on, Firs' Years. Follow me!"

He led them down to the edge of the lake, where a fleet of boats waited. Slowly, everyone climbed in. Harry and Emmalee-Grace found themselves sharing a boat with Ron, Hermione, and Neville.

On some unseen command, the boats glided forward, taking them across the lake.

Emmalee-Grace looked down into the dark water, where she could have sworn she saw something move. Excited, she leaned out a little farther, only to be pulled back by Harry. She frowned at him until he pointed forward.

She turned, gasping as the castle moved into view. It seemed every light in the castle was blazing in welcome.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

* * *

Hagrid led them from the boats to the castle's front door. There, they were greeted by a stern-looking woman with spectacles. Grey hair was pinned in a severe bun and she stared down at the children.

"Evening, Professor McGonagall," stated Hagrid. "I'll leave the Firs' Years to you, then."

She nodded. "Follow me."

She led the group into a small room, where she proceeded to explain the Houses of Hogwarts and how houses would be their families while they were at school. After her explanation, she told them to wait, before disappearing.

"How do you reckon we'll be Sorted?" Harry asked. "Virgil didn't say anything about that."

By agreement, Harry and Emmalee-Grace had taken to calling Sev Virgil, to keep people from getting confused. After all, legally, they were in Virgil's custody.

Emmalee-Grace shrugged. "I doubt it will be anything too difficult. I doubt it has anything to do with the spells Hermione is muttering under her breath. No use worrying. We'll get through it."

"Doubt it'll be wrestling a troll," added Ron. "That's what my brothers, the twins, said."

Harry gulped nervously. Professor McGonagall had returned, leading them into the Great Hall.

"The ceiling's enchanted. It's supposed to look like the sky outside," declared Hermione. "It's all in _Hogwarts, A History._"

"Wish Virgil had gotten us a copy of that," whispered Emmalee-Grace.

That got a smile, albeit a nervous one, out of Harry.

A tattered old had sat on a stool, before the staff table. Before Emmalee-Grace could comment to Harry, the hat began to sing.

When it had finished, Harry grinned at her. "We just have to try on the hat!"

Emmalee-Grace nodded, relieved. The two of them looked up at Professor McGonagall, waiting for their names to be called.

"Bones, Susan!" The professor began the call.

"Hufflepuff!" The Hat called out.

A few students later, Professor McGonagall called out, "Granger, Hermione!"

"Gryffindor!"

Ron groaned. Emmalee-Grace was confused. Hermione didn't seem to fit Sev's description of Gryffindors.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

The round-faced boy sat there for quite a while, before the Had declared him a Gryffindor. He ran off towards the Gryffindor table, the Hat still on his head.

"Mr. Longbottom," scolded Professor McGonagall.

Neville grinned, sheepishly, returning the Hat to the stool.

"Lunaris, Emmalee-Grace!"

Taking a deep breath, she strode up to the stool, catching a glimpse of Sev, seated next to man with a purple turban on his head. Something about the man made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

_Well, what do we have here? _The Hat spoke, once it was on her head. _Lunaris, they called you. Hiding a great deal, you are. A very Slytherin trait, that is._

_But I don't want to be in Slytherin,_ thought Emmalee-Grace, remembering what Sev had said about that House.

_Well, you're curious, too, a very Ravenclaw trait, and loyalty, very Hufflepuff. However, the place where you belong is…_

"Gryffindor!"

She let out a sigh of relief, walking over to the Gryffindor table, having returned the Hat to Professor McGonagall. She sank down next to Hermione, to finish watching the Sorting.

The Hat hadn't even touched Draco Malfoy's head before it declared him a Slytherin. He strutted over to join his cronies at the other end of the hall.

Emmalee-Grace crossed her fingers as Professor McGonagall called Harry's name. It seemed an eternity for her before the Hat finally gave it's decision.

"Gryffindor!"

Hagrid's applause could be heard all across the Hall, along with the Weasley twins chanting about how they got Potter.

Harry smiled at his foster cousin as he sat down next to her.

"Not so difficult, indeed," he scoffed, looking a little pale.

It didn't take long before Ron was joining them at the Gryffindor table, looking extremely relieved.

"Alright, Ron, you did it," remarked a tall, thin red-haired boy, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a badge that read 'Prefect.' "Mum and Dad will be happy to hear you followed family tradition."

Ron nodded. "Thanks, Perce."

"Who is the professor up there, the one with the purple turban?" Harry asked, suddenly.

Confused, Emmalee-Grace stared at him. She had just about asked that question, herself.

Percy explained, "That's Professor Quirrell. He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though the professor next to him is the one to watch out for. That's Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House. He hates Gryffindors. Too bad he teaches Potions. Rumor has it, though, he wants Quirrell's job."

Emmalee-Grace lifted one eyebrow as she looked back over at Harry. They both knew his real opinion of the House, after all.

Dumbledore rose from his seat in the middle of the staff table.

"Welcome, one and all! There are a few notices I must give out," he declared. "One, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all students. Two, there is no magic allowed in the corridors. Three, the third-floor corridor, on the left-hand side, is also off limits. That is, of course, unless you wish to die a most painful death. Now, let us begin our feast. Nitwick, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak!"

A puzzled expression crossed Harry's face.

"Potatoes, Harry?" Percy asked, passing him the bowl.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace turned to look at the now food-covered table.

"The Headmaster is mental," concluded Emmalee-Grace, before beginning to fill her plate.

_

* * *

_

And that ends chapter six. If anyone else notices anything that doesn't seem to add up, just let me know. I'll see if I can fix it, or at least give you an answer, the way I did at the beginning of this chapter. Funny thing, shortly before writing this chapter, I stumbled upon the actual Droobles Gum that they put out. It's the weirdest gum ever, but I love it!


	7. First Day Confusion

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Seven: First Day Confusion

Emmalee-Grace rolled over and frowned at the canopy over her head. It took a few moments for the previous day's events to sink in. She was now at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What would her mother say to that?

"Oh, no!" Hermione's voice called out from the other side of the curtains. "I can't find it!"

The raven-haired girl poked her head through the curtains. "Can't find what?"

"My potions book! We have Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions, today, and I can't find my book for Potions!"

"Hermione, breathe! It's sitting on your bed," replied Emmalee-Grace. "Right under _Hogwarts, A History._"

"Thanks, Emmalee-Grace!" The bushy haired girl snapped up the book and placed it in her bag.

"By the way, how do you know what classes we have today?" Emmalee-Grace rose and began dressing in her uniform.

Hermione stopped and stared at her. "They handed out the schedules at breakfast."

"Breakfast!"

She began throwing on her uniform, sliding her books into her bag. She almost tripped over her shoes in the process.

"Slow down! You're going to kill yourself!" Hermione exclaimed.

Hair streaming out behind her, Emmalee-Grace charged down the stairs, to find Harry standing at the bottom. In one hand, he held a sheet of parchment. In the other, she could see steam rolling off a large cinnamon bun.

"I figured you'd miss breakfast, so I managed to bring this up," he stated. "I knew Hermione would wake you."

His foster cousin snatched the pastry, devouring it quickly. She took the parchment he held, containing her class schedule.

"Thanks, Harry. You're the best," she managed between bites.

"All Gryffindor First Years have the same schedule," explained Harry, who had collected his own books while she was eating. "So, Transfiguration, first."

Hermione walked ahead of them as they left Gryffindor Tower, leaving Harry and Emmalee-Grace to talk.

"My dormmates don't seem too bad. Dean Thomas, his parents are both Muggles, so he's a huge soccer fan. He's even put up a few posters, already. Those posters are really bothering Ron. Seamus Finnegan seems pretty cool, too, and you've met Ron and Neville," he stated. "How's your dorm?"

"I swear, Lavender Brown spent an hour last night, complaining of how homesick she'll be and how annoying Hermione was. Pavarti Patil was more worried about her twin sister, Padma. Apparently they share a room at home, so this is a new experience for both of them, being separated like this. Hermione's probably the only one I'm going to get along with. The other two, I don't know." She shrugged. "I might like Pavarti better as time goes on. Lavender, I feel, is a lost cause."

Harry laughed.

* * *

Transfiguration and Charms passed fairly quickly. Professor McGonagall was a stern as she had been the night before. After explaining exactly what Transfiguration was and how dangerous things could be if one wasn't careful, it was easy for Harry and Emmalee-Grace to see why. There was no messing around in this class. The professor, however, seemed to be keeping an eye on Harry throughout the whole class.

Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, fell off his book pile when he read Harry's name on the roll. Emmalee-Grace understood how they had managed to miss the tiny professor at the head table, last night. His squeaky voice, however, could not be so easily forgotten. They had both agreed this class would be more fun than Transfiguration.

When, at last, they filed into the dungeons for Potions, Harry was annoyed. Everyone had been staring at him when they passed him in the halls. Students had whispered behind his back during classes, but no one had bothered to come up and talk to him, directly.

"Potions," he sighed with relief. "Last class of the day."

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "I've been looking forward to this class. My mum is excellent at brewing potions. Sometimes, I was even allowed to watch her work. It's fascinating, adding ingredients together and watching what they become."

He grinned. That was the most Emmalee-Grace had spoken about her mother since she arrived. They took a pair of seats, near the middle of the right-hand side of the room. The First Year Slytherins had already filled up the left-hand side, having gotten there before any of the Gryffindors. Hermione was in the seat next to Emmalee-Grace. Ron ran in right behind them, taking the seat on the other side of Harry.

Sev strolled into the room, his black robe billowing behind him.

"There shall be no ridiculous wand waving or foolish incantations in my classroom. Potion making is an exact science, a subtle art," he declared, his voice more of a sneer than either of them had ever heard before. "If you are not all the dunderheads I usually have to work with, I can teach you how to brew fame, bottle glory. I might even be able to tell you how to put a stopper in death."

Harry and Emmalee-Grace hung on his every word, much like Hermione, beside them.

Sev ran through the roll, not even showing a flicker of recognition at Emmalee-Grace's name. At Harry's, however, he paused.

"Ah, yes, the newest celebrity at Hogwarts. Tell me, Mr. Potter, the location of a bezoar."

Harry frowned. He'd heard Sev mention it before, but never where to find it. Beside him, Emmalee-Grace was just as puzzled. Hermione's hand shot into the air.

"You don't know? How about what is created by adding wormwood to an infusion of asphodel?"

_Draught of Living Death,_ thought Emmalee-Grace, her own hand rising into the air.

"No clue on that one, either, Mr. Potter?" Sev demanded. "How about the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"I'm afraid not, Professor."

Harry looked at Hermione. She was bouncing in her seat, her hand still in the air. His eyes moved to Emmalee-Grace, who's own upraised hand trembled.

"Hermione and Emmalee-Grace both seem to know. Why don't you ask one of them?"

Sev glared at all three of them, before snapping at Hermione and Emmalee-Grace. Fifteen points were quickly taken from Gryffindor.

* * *

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, after supper that night. None of the other boys had come up, yet, so Emmalee-Grace had come over. She curled up beside the window next to his bed. Her gaze was fixed on the starry sky outside.

"What in the world was with Sev today?" Harry demanded. "He knows I don't know the answers to those questions. So, why did he pick on me like that?"

"Remember what he said before he left? Here, he still has to pretend, he has to play the game he started with your dad."

"I suppose. I just didn't think he'd change that much. He's always been the one person I could count on to be kind to me, to understand, and to have him betray me this way, I just don't know."

"You know it's not the real him. In fact, don't even think of him as Sev. Here, he's Professor Snape. End of story. That's what I'm doing. They are two separate people." She rose and walked to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry. Try and get some sleep, will you?"

* * *

So, here you go, chapter seven. It's a shorter chapter, but the next one should make up for it. It'll be about twice as long, I promise. However, I'm hoping to get at least two reviews on this chapter before I get the next one up, if you would, please. I'm not sure how soon I'll have the next chapter up, but I'm hoping to get at least one more before the weekend is over. Happy reviewing!


	8. Flying to Halloween

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Alright, I have all of the first year completely written out. I just have to type it up. There's this chapter and five more after that to finish out that year. Then, I'm moving on to second year. Unfortunately, don't plan on a lot of chapters for that book. Chamber of Secrets is not my favorite book, and so I won't be covering all of second year like I am first year. You have been warned.

Chapter Eight: Flying to Halloween

"Flying lessons with the Slytherins?" Ron's dismayed cry could be heard throughout the Common Room.

Emmalee-Grace looked up from her homework. "Flying lessons?"

"On school brooms," explained Percy, who was working nearby. "All First Years get at least one flying lesson."

The tone of his voice suggested that flying lessons had not been his favorite part of his first year.

The raven-haired girl looked over at her foster cousin. Harry was obviously excited about learning to fly. Even though she wouldn't admit it, Emmalee-Grace was, too. Her mother had taken her out on her broom a few times, usually whenever they had needed to move. She wanted to be the one actually flying it, this time.

"When do we have them?" Hermione's voice trembled.

Neville also looked extremely pale at the thought of flying.

* * *

"Can I see your Remembrall, Neville?" Emmalee-Grace asked.

The small boy nodded, handing over the clear ball. No red smoke formed when she looked into it, unlike it did every time Neville pulled it out.

"I suppose it would be more helpful if it could tell you what you've forgotten."

Neville sighed. "If only. At least you and Hermione are helping me with my homework."

The two of them had found Neville, after the third day of classes, staring at his homework. A lost expression had filled his face. They even took turns partnering with him in Potions, the class where he was already having the most trouble.

"It's not a problem, Neville. I'm sure you'll get the hang of things, eventually." She smiled encouragingly at him. "After all, you understood that last Herbology lesson better than I did."

A grin crossed his face. "Really?"

"Really."

They entered the grassy courtyard where everyone had gathered for their flying lesson. Neville quickly paled again.

"I have enough trouble with both feet on the ground," he hissed. "I'm going to be in major trouble on a broom!"

Sure enough, Madam Hooch was soon escorting Neville to the Hospital Wing with a broken wrist.

Emmalee-Grace saw Neville's Remembrall on the ground, below where he had crashed. She hurried forward, hoping to grab it before anything had happened to it. However, she was too late. Draco Malfoy had also spotted it and had picked it up. Before anyone could stop him, Malfoy was up in the air, still holding the Remembrall.

She heard Hermione say something. Turning, she saw Harry take off after the Slytherin. Just by looking at them, Emmalee-Grace could tell Malfoy had a skill borne from a great deal of practice. Harry, however, was flying with pure, natural talent. She watched the Remembrall arc away from Malfoy's hand.

"Come on, Harry!" Emmalee-Grace yelled along with the other Gryffindors.

He dived and rolled, straightening up just outside one of the school windows. He lifted up one hand, the Remembrall held aloft.

A great deal of cheering rose as he flew down to land. Emmalee-Grace was one of the first to reach him, hugging him tightly.

"Reckless, Harry. Very reckless," she whispered.

He was grinning when she pulled back. However, his grin quickly faded.

"Mr. Potter. Follow me." Professor McGonagall stood in the courtyard's entryway.

Emmalee-Grace placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He gulped, nervously, and followed the Transfiguration professor.

"I hope he's not in too much trouble," muttered Ron. "He was doing it to defend Neville."

Hermione nodded.

Emmalee-Grace couldn't say a word. What would Sev do if Harry's defense of Neville got him expelled? There wasn't anywhere for Harry to go during the school year, now. Not unless Sev was going to send him back to his horrid Muggle relatives.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Madam Hooch's return. Within a few moments, all her cares disappeared as her feet left the ground. It was a rush she had never felt flying with her mother. The wind blew back her hair as she slowly circled the courtyard with the other students. Some had already retreated back to the ground as soon as they could, Hermione among them. Lavender and Pavarti had also returned to the ground, as had Seamus and Dean. Ron still circled the yard, a grin on his face.

Emmalee-Grace was so caught up in the freedom of flying that she almost didn't hear Madam Hooch call everyone back to the ground.

"Anyone wishing to continue practicing flying will need permission from their parent or guardian and their Head of House. Once you have written permission from both, come and see me and I'll tell you when you can practice." The flying teacher glared around at them. "Practicing without permission will result in loosing all flying privileges. Possibly permanent loss of these privileges. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Madam Hooch."

Emmalee-Grace ran towards the Owlery, digging frantically in her bag for a quill and parchment.

_Dear Virgil,_ she wrote, pausing just outside the door.

_I am requesting written permission from you in order to continue practicing my flying. If you agree, I will approach Professor McGonagall for her permission. _

_Missing you,_

_Emmalee-Grace Lunaris_

She quickly tied the parchment to Asphodel's leg and sent the black owl winging off to Sev, even though he was still in the castle. She knew it would appear odd if he didn't send the message back by owl. Turning, she ran back to Gryffindor Tower.

In the Common Room, she found a dazed Harry, flanked by Fred and George, with Ron hovering nearby.

"What happened?" Emmalee-Grace hurried over to him.

Harry looked up, his green eyes wide. "I'm not in trouble. I got named Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Youngest Seeker in a century, apparently. McGonagall's going to get Dumbledore to approve it."

"That catch you made earlier? Natural Seeker," added Ron.

* * *

At supper that night, Harry still appeared to be in shock. Asphodel came flying in, just as Emmalee-Grace had convinced Harry to eat. The black owl had two letters attached to his leg. One was addressed to Professor McGonagall and the other to Harry and Emmalee-Grace. As soon as Emmalee-Grace had removed the letter addressed to her and Harry, Asphodel took off, delivering the other letter to Professor McGonagall.

"From Virgil?" Harry asked.

She nodded.

_Harry and Emmalee-Grace,_

_I heard about your flying lessons today. Well done, Harry, standing up for your friends like that. Your father would have been very proud of you. Congratulations on making Seeker, too, Harry. Then again, Quidditch is in your blood._

_You both have my permission to practice your flying and Harry has permission to play Quidditch. _

_Missing you as well,_

_Virgil Netherson_

"So, that must be what Asphodel delivered to Professor McGonagall," said Harry. "His permission for us to practice flying."

Emmalee-Grace nodded, smiling. "I think you're right. I'm going to go ahead and head up. I want to get a head start on my homework."

She rose, still holding on to Sev's letter.

Not long after Emmalee-Grace left, Draco Malfoy approached the table, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Think you're so lucky, Potter? I challenge you to a Wizard's Duel, tonight at midnight. Unless, of course, you're too chicken?" Malfoy drawled.

Ron immediately intervened. "Of course he's not. Where?"

"Trophy Room."

"I'll be his second. Who's yours?"

"Crabbe."

Malfoy stalked away.

"What just happened?" Harry demanded.

* * *

Hermione and Emmalee-Grace were both waiting when Harry and Ron went to leave for the duel.

"Hermione overheard and she told me. Don't you think Malfoy could just be setting you up?" Emmalee-Grace hissed. "He didn't get you in trouble during flying lessons, so he's trying again."

"But I can't risk him having been serious about this," retorted Harry.

"We're only two weeks into the school year. None of us know enough to duel," she reminded him.

Harry ignored her, walking a little faster to catch up with Ron.

_I'm loosing him, _she thought, sadly. _Every day, Ron's taking my place as his best friend and I'm getting ignored. I want things to go back to the way they were before we came to Hogwarts. I want my best friend back._

Neville trotted after them, having been released from the Hospital Wing. He'd been trapped outside Gryffindor Tower without the password, and now the Fat Lady had departed from her painting, locking them all out.

When Malfoy failed to show for the duel, sending Filch in his place, the five Gryffindors found themselves running through the halls, trying to hide. They all sighed in relief when Peeves tricked Filch. However, their relief was short lived when Neville brought their attention to what was behind them. A large, three-headed dog growled menacingly. They turned and ran, all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, thankfully undetected.

"Did anyone else see what that dog was doing there?" Hermione demanded.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "You mean the trap door it was standing on?"

The bushy haired girl nodded. "Precisely."

"It has to be guarding something," declared the raven-haired girl. "The question is what?"

"Well, I'm going to bed." Hermione stormed off towards the girls' room, "before either of them gets us expelled."

Emmalee-Grace started after her, before pausing and looking back at Harry over her shoulder. "By the way, Harry, I told you so."

Harry and Ron turned to each other and shrugged, before heading back to their own dormitory.

* * *

Halloween seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. In Charms, the morning of the last day of October, they were starting lessons on Levitation Charms. Emmalee-Grace hurried to pair herself with Neville, wanting to avoid Harry.

_If he's going to ignore me, I'll avoid him,_ she thought.

It surprised her when Harry ended up being partnered with Seamus, instead of Ron. The young Weasley had been stuck as Hermione's partner.

Hermione was the first to get her feather into the air, with Emmalee-Grace just a few seconds behind. The both beamed as points were added to Gryffindor.

However, as they were leaving the class, Ron muttered, "Honestly, I've never met anyone more annoying. She's so full of herself. It's no surprise she's always alone. Who'd want to be friends with her?"

Hermione shoved past him, tears sliding down her face. Emmalee-Grace shot a glare at Ron, before taking off after Hermione.

* * *

"Hermione, please, come out. Talk to me. You know Ron didn't mean it. He's just jealous that you got the feather to levitate and he couldn't."

"Then, why didn't he make fun of you?" Hermione's muffled voice came from inside the toilet stall.

"I don't know. For all I know, he said something after I left. I've heard him say stuff before. I just ignored him, and I don't think he's ever said anything directly to Harry. I used to hear stuff all the time, back when I lived in New York. Top of the class, teacher's pet, that was me. I didn't have anyone who'd play with me at recess. Anyone who partnered with me in class just wanted me to do all the work. I ended up telling Mama that I didn't want to be smart, anymore. I wanted to be just like everyone else."

"What did she say to that?"

"That I was smart for a reason, that one day, I would see that being smart didn't have to be a curse. Yeah, the other kids were jealous for now, but sooner or later, they'd find something they were better at than me, and they'd move on."

"Really?" Hermione sniffled.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "Of course…"

She broke off as a large shadow fell across her. At the same time, Hermione opened the stall door. They both stared up into the grey face of an enormous mountain troll. Together, they both let out loud shrieks.

The troll looked down at them, confused, before swinging its club. Both girls scrambled under the sinks, holding tight to each other. Both of their wands were out of reach. Hermione's was in her bag near the door and Emmalee-Grace's was in a puddle, near the stalls.

"Oy, pea brain!" Ron's voice rang out as a piece of wood from a broken stall hid the troll's head.

Emmalee-Grace peered around Hermione to see Ron and Harry in the doorway, wands in their hands. In what Sev would later term typical Potter fashion, Harry jumped onto the troll, his wand going up the monster's nose.

"Do something, Ron!" Harry was yelling only moments later, as he was grabbed by the troll and held upside down, his wand still in the troll's nose.

Ron looked confused as he lifted his wand, using the first spell that popped into his head.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

A few seconds after that, the troll was out cold on the floor, its own club having knocked it out.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Lunaris!"

Professor McGonagall entered the bathroom, trailed by Professors Snape and Quirrell.

The turbaned professor flinched away from the troll.

"I'm sorry, Professors. It's my fault," explained Hermione. "I thought I could handle the troll on my own, since I've read so much about them."

"I ran after her, hoping to stop her," added Emmalee-Grace. "Harry and Ron saved us, after it cornered us."

Harry and Ron both looked at each other. Hermione, telling an outright lie to a teacher? What surprised Harry even more, though, was the fact that Emmalee-Grace had backed her up.

"Well, five points from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment, Miss Granger. Miss Lunaris, next time, it might serve better to fetch a professor, but I commend your efforts. Five points to Gryffindor for you," declared Professor McGonagall. "As for you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, it is not often first years could live to tell the tale after taking on a fully grown Mountain Troll. For pure dumb luck, ten points to Gryffindor. Now, I suggest all four of you head to your dormitory."

They nodded and hurried past the three professors. Harry almost stopped, but Emmalee-Grace nudged him onward. They let Ron and Hermione get ahead of them.

"Didn't you see Sev's leg?" Harry hissed.

She glared at him. "We have to play the game, Harry. We can't express concern in front of the others. We wouldn't have gotten an answer, even if we'd asked. You know that. We'll just have to be patient."

Harry let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll wait."

"So, can I see that broom you got this morning? That's the worst part about sleeping in and missing breakfast." She laughed.

* * *

Sorry it took a while to get this chapter up. I had to finish writing out the first year for a friend of mine, who's reading this before I post it. So, I'm hoping to get some feedback on this chapter. If there's any questions, or anything like that, let me know. Yes, I know right now Emmalee-Grace is coming off a bit Mary Sue-ish. Just be patient with me. That will change. I do have a purpose for her. So, please, review, and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	9. Quidditch Match

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Nine: Quidditch Match

"Really, Harry, you need to eat," pleaded Emmalee-Grace, pushing a plate of food towards her foster cousin. "You don't want to go out there on an empty stomach."

"Why did the first match of the year have to be Gryffindor versus Slytherin? I doubt I'd be this nervous if I'd actually seen a game before," moaned Harry.

She smiled. "Just remember what Virgil said. Quidditch is in your blood. Your dad was a Chaser, one of the best, and your grandmother was one of the most amazing female seekers at Hogwarts. I'm sure you're going to be brilliant!"

"I've even looked back as far as I could on the Potters of Hogwarts. They've all been brilliant at Quidditch," added Hermione, encouragingly.

"So, no pressure, right?" Harry asked, with a half-hearted laugh.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace followed Ron, Hermione, and Neville out to the Quidditch pitch. Harry's description of bubble-blowing wands seemed entirely appropriate when she looked at the hoops. She'd never considered that analogy before he'd commented on it.

"Let's go, Gryffindor!"

Cheers echoed around them as they took their seats.

"Come on, Harry. I know you can do this," muttered Emmalee-Grace.

Both teams walked out and mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch called for a clean game, but it didn't appear that the Slytherins planned to give one.

Emmalee-Grace's hands clenched as the balls were released and the game began.

"Gryffindor in possession. Johnson makes an excellent throw to Spinnet. Spinnet makes a marvelous pass to Bell. Bell goes in for the score. No, blocked by the no-good Flint!"

Lee Jordan's commentary rang around the pitch, but Emmalee-Grace slowly tuned him out. She focused entirely on Harry. Crossing her fingers, she watched him circle the pitch, searching for the small golden ball. Just when she finally began to relax, thinking Harry indeed had this all under control, his broom jerked. Time seemed to slow down as she watched the broom try to throw him off.

"Look at Snape," hissed Ron.

Indeed, the Potions Master was staring at the broom, muttering under his breath. However, only Emmalee-Grace noticed the fear that was etched into his face. Whatever he was doing was probably all that was keeping Harry on his broom.

Several feet behind him, however, stood Professor Quirrell, also muttering and staring at Harry's broom. Emmalee-Grace felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, again. She followed Hermione out of the student section and towards the professors. The bushy haired girl pulled a jar of blue flames out of her pocket, setting them on the edge of Snape's robes before Emmalee-Grace could stop her. However, the raven-haired girl quickly sent a few flames of her own licking at the bottom of Quirrell's robes, before darting off. Hermione hadn't seemed to notice the second set of flames. She pulled hers back into her jar and fled after Emmalee-Grace.

By the time they were able to view the pitch again, Harry had already regained control of his broom and was diving towards the ground, neck and neck with the Slytherin seeker, Terrance Higgs.

"Come on, Harry," muttered Hermione.

Emmalee-Grace couldn't find her voice to speak as Harry dove closer to the ground. She forced herself to watch after Higgs pulled out, sure Harry was going to crash. He pulled up, just in time, standing up on his broom.

"This is no time to try broom surfing," she managed to snap through gritted teeth.

However, he stretched out his hand, leaning forward, only to tumble off his broom. Emmalee-Grace was already half-way to the stairs when Harry stood back up. He coughed out the Snitch that he had almost swallowed.

Relieved, Emmalee-Grace sank back against the wall, catching a glimpse of Professor Snape as she did. The Potions Master was biting back a grin, slowly shaking his head. To anyone else, it would look as if he were disappointed in Slytherin's loss. To Emmalee-Grace, however, he was hiding his pride at the rather unusual, but completely legal, catch Harry had just made.

The cheers from Gryffindor were deafening. Carefully, Emmalee-Grace and Hermione made their way back over to Ron and Neville, who had been joined by Hagrid.

* * *

"That was some catch, Harry," declared Ron.

The entire Common Room was filled with Gryffindors, celebrating their victory. Harry had already been hoisted into the air at least twice by the older students. Even Hermione had stayed to celebrate, claiming it was too noisy to try and study anyway.

Emmalee-Grace turned, catching a glimpse of a small brown owl hovering outside the Common Room window. Quickly, she moved to let it in.

"Hey, there, Nettles," she said, greeting Sev's personal owl. "Letter for me?"

Nettles let her take the letter, although it was actually addressed to Harry.

"I'll make sure he gets it. Any reply needed?"

The owl shook its head, taking back off into the growing night.

* * *

At last, the celebrations died down enough that Emmalee-Grace could hand the letter to Harry.

"It's from Virgil," she whispered, pulling her foster cousin into a secluded alcove, handing him the letter.

_Harry,_

_I was quite impressed with your flying today. You are indeed as great a flyer as James. However, you must be careful. I cannot say which one, but I suspect one of the professors here at Hogwarts to be putting your life in danger. Be extremely cautious, Harry. Keep your new friends close, but don't ignore your olds ones to the point of excluding them._

_Again, be careful!_

_Virgil_

"I _am_ being careful," retorted Harry. "I couldn't have prevented the problem with my broom today!"

"I think he's referring to the troll incident, too, Harry. I should warn you, though, that Ron and Hermione believe Professor Snape was behind the broom jinxing today. Personally, I think he was muttering a counter to keep you on your broom."

Harry nodded. "I think we'd both better keep an eye on the other professors."

* * *

Okay, short chapter, but I hope to have the next one up, soon. Not much else to say, just begging for reviews! I got three on the last chapter. Can we beat that?


	10. Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Ten: Christmas

"So, you have no idea where Harry found the name Nicholas Flamel?" Hermione looked over at her dorm mate.

Emmalee-Grace sat on the edge of her bed, watching Hermione pack. "Not a clue. Then again, it could have been before I met him. But that doesn't explain why I'm sure I've read it someplace, myself."

She glanced over at the enormous stack of books between her bed and Hermione's. They had scoured all of them in an effort to find Nicholas Flamel after Hagrid had let the name slip. However, nothing had turned up.

"I keep feeling like we're missing something." Emmalee-Grace bit down on her thumbnail. "Don't worry, though. I'm sure by Christmas Break's end, we'll have found Flamel. You go enjoy your time with your parents."

"It's too bad you and Harry have to stay here. I know you both miss your guardian."

The raven-haired girl shrugged. "It's alright. We'll see him again, once summer arrives. And I'm sure he'll send us presents to make up for this."

Hermione smiled. "I'll see you in January, Emmalee-Grace. Enjoy having our dorm all to yourself."

"See you in January, Hermione." Emmalee-Grace waved her friend out of the room.

Sighing, she turned to the new stack of books on her bed, hoping one of them held the information they were seeking.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace was awakened early on Christmas morning by Aconite gently shaking her shoulder.

"Master Sev is waiting for you. We need to go, now. Get dressed and meet me downstairs. I'll go get Master Harry."

With those words, the house-elf walked out of her room. Emmalee-Grace jumped out of bed, pulling on the first outfit that came to her hand, a pair of jeans and a thick, pewter sweater. She hopped down the stairs, trying to put on her shoes at the same time.

Somehow, Harry still had beaten her down to the Common Room, Aconite at his side. Harry was dressed like Emmalee-Grace, in jeans and a sweater, though his was crimson.

"I figured it would be something like this," he explained, lifting the present they had both pitched in to buy.

Emmalee-Grace glared at him. "You could have told me that. I would have been more ready for the early morning wake-up call."

"Come on. We mustn't keep Master Sev waiting," grumbled Aconite.

Clearly the house-elf was not thrilled about the time, either.

"Lighten up, Aconite," said Harry, smiling. "It's Christmas, after all."

The house-elf didn't answer. Instead, he led them out of the Gryffindor Common Room and down to Professor Snape's office in the dungeons.

"Happy Christmas!" Sev exclaimed, the moment the door closed behind them.

No longer dressed in the billowing black robes of Professor Snape, he was far more relaxed than he had been in months. Like Harry and Emmalee-Grace, he wore jeans and a sweater, though his was forest green.

Harry grinned. "Happy Christmas, Sev."

Emmalee-Grace took the present from Harry's hands and held it out to their guardian.

"You two didn't have to get me anything, you know." Sev shook his head. "You didn't last year."

"But was wanted to get you something this year," said Emmalee-Grace. "And you'll get another one on January 9th."

Harry nodded. "It's our way of saying thank you, after all. You didn't have to take in either of us, Sev. We just want to give something back."

Sev walked over, placing his present on his desk. Dropping to one knee, he pulled both of them into a tight hug.

"Just being able to spend time with both of you is thanks enough for me. I don't need any repayment. It is my honor and pleasure to be guardian to both of you," he whispered.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace both returned the hug. Tears shimmered in Emmalee-Grace's eyes.

"Now, who wants their presents?" Sev gave a laugh as he pulled back.

* * *

As Harry and Emmalee-Grace walked back to Gryffindor Tower, they knew Sev had been happy with the new chess set they had purchased by Owl Order. The new potions supplies would wait until his birthday.

Emmalee-Grace had already hung her new necklace around her neck. An onyx raven spread its wings, the chain connecting at the wing tips. Her own new chess set, made of silver, with sapphire eyes, rested in its box in her hands.

A new deck for Exploding Snap was in Harry's back pocket. A new watch rested on his wrist, with a cover that looked like a Golden Snitch. It had a small photo frame inside, with a picture of Sev, Emmalee-Grace, and himself, as well as his grandfather, taken last Christmas. The watch didn't just tell time, either. The face had three gold hands, used to tell the time. However, it had a fourth hand, which was thinner than the others and made of silver. All Harry had to do was ask where a person was and the silver hand would grow thicker and guide him.

"Wish I'd had this during the first week. With the professors in their classrooms, or at least near them, it would have made it easier to find our classes," said Harry, still grinning.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "At least your watch is useful. I'm not sure about my necklace."

"You never know," replied Harry.

They returned to the Common Room to find Ron coming down the stairs, followed by his brothers, Fred and George.

"Where were you?" Ron asked.

Harry answered, "Getting our gifts to our guardian sent off. It just showed up last night."

"We'd have sent it directly to him, but we needed to add a personal touch," added Emmalee-Grace.

The Weasleys seemed to accept their explanation, before turning to the presents under the Gryffindor Christmas tree.

"Hey, Mum even sent you two Christmas presents!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace looked at him. "We have presents under the tree?"

Fred and George nodded. "Quite a few."

They both hurried over to examine the other gifts. Hagrid had sent both of them wooden flutes. Harry's sounded like an owl, while Emmalee-Grace's was a bit higher pitched. Hermione had sent both of them several Muggle sweets, sugar-free because of her dentist parents, as well as a Muggle fiction book she thought Emmalee-Grace might enjoy. Mrs. Weasley had sent more sweets, homemade fudge, especially. Also, there were two new sweaters, one for each of them. Harry's was an emerald green, almost the same color as his eyes. Emmalee-Grace's was an equally dark blue.

"At least she didn't put a letter on yours," remarked Fred.

George nodded. "We know our own names, don't we, Gred?"

"And it's not maroon," added Ron. "She forgets how much I hate maroon."

"Hey, Harry, who's this one from?" Emmalee-Grace slid another package over to him, as Fred and George took off to find and annoy Percy with his own new sweater.

Harry picked up the attached note and read it.

"No clue. Just that this was my dad's and I should use it well."

He carefully opened the package, revealing something that looked like liquid silver. Slowly, he lifted it, revealing a cloak.

Ron dropped the chocolate frog he had been eating. "I know what that is! Put it on, Harry!"

Harry wrapped it around himself.

"An Invisibility Cloak!" Emmalee-Grace exclaimed. "Mum used to tell me about them!"

"I'm invisible?" Harry exclaimed.

* * *

"So, where exactly is this mirror, Harry?" Emmalee-Grace whispered, trying carefully not to step on Harry's feet.

Harry turned and scanned the hall, spotting the suit of armor.

"There. It's in that room there."

Once inside, Harry practically flew to the mirror, to see his parents smiling down on him.

Emmalee-Grace hung back, examining the mirror as Ron took his turn looking into it.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," she whispered. "Welsh, maybe? Certainly not Latin."

She pulled a small notebook from her pocket and wrote down the mirror's inscription.

"Hey, Emmalee-Grace, did you want to look? Maybe we can figure it out then," said Harry. "After all, I see my family, but Ron sees his 'future' or so he claims."

Slowly, she walked over to stand before the mirror, Harry and Ron on either side of her. She had to blink back tears as she stared at her reflection. Both boys still appeared, and Hermione was in the mirror, too, standing next to Ron, smiling.

It became impossible to fight back those tears as she saw the woman standing directly behind her. Long, elegant hands rested on Emmalee-Grace's shoulders. Red hair was neatly confined in a bun at the base of her skull, hair, Emmalee-Grace knew, would almost reach her knees when it was allowed to tumble free. Tears shimmered in her pale grey eyes, eyes identical to her daughter's.

"Mama," whispered Emmalee-Grace, placing her own hand on her shoulder.

Another person stood at her mother's side. His appearance, however, left Emmalee-Grace as puzzled as the mirror's inscription. One moment, he looked like Severus Snape. The next, he was Virgil Netherson. But it was his third appearance that confused her the most. He resembled the photos she had seen of a younger Michael Potter, or even those she had seen of Harry's father, James. Except, his eyes weren't hazel, like James's, or a medium grey, like Michael's. Instead, they were the same dark grey, almost black, that belonged to Sev.

Slowly, she backed away from the mirror, until they vanished.

"I think we'd better get out of here," she whispered. "I don't like that mirror."

A noise sounded behind them and the three of them disappeared back under the cloak. Just as they pulled the cloak around them, Mrs. Norris cam walking into the room. Carefully avoiding her, they left and sprinted back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"So, Dumbledore says it shows the 'deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts?'" Emmalee-Grace demanded.

Harry nodded. "Why?"

"Of course!" She pulled her notebook back out of her pocket, placing it on the table. "If it's a mirror, it's perfect. The inscription isn't in another language. It's in English!"

Ron stared at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "That wasn't English!"

Emmalee-Grace smiled and slid her notebook over to him. Three lines were written on the page.

_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_

_ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire_

_I show not your face but your heart's desire_

"It's written backward!" She laughed.

Harry shook his head, laughing himself. "But that still doesn't help us find Flamel."

* * *

Whew. That chapter took a while to write. I had the hardest time figuring out what Emmalee-Grace would seen when she looked in the mirror. I also apologize if Christmas morning seemed a bit sappy, but that's how it came out when I wrote it. Thirty-two reviews and counting for this story! That's more than any of my others got, and those are finished. This one isn't even close! So, can I get a few more?


	11. Flamel and Confusion

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Eleven: Flamel and Confusion

"What do you mean, Snape's refereeing the next match?" Ron yelped.

Harry shrugged. "Just what it sounds like, Ron."

As Ron and Hermione started thinking of ways to knock Harry out of playing and reasons why Snape would suddenly decide to referee, Emmalee-Grace walked over and stood behind her foster cousin.

"We both know the real reason, don't we?" She whispered in his ear. "He's that much closer to protect you if something happens again."

Harry gave a barely perceptible nod.

The laughter from a bunch of students drew their attention. Neville was moving towards them, barely able to stay upright. A Leg-Locker Curse had obviously been performed on him.

Hermione moved faster than Emmalee-Grace and Neville was soon freed.

"Thanks," breathed Neville. "Malfoy wanted some practice."

"You need to report him to McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed.

"That'd only make things worse," muttered Neville.

Ron glared at him. "Stand up for yourself, mate! Don't let him walk all over you by just falling over! That's what he wants! That's what he's used to!"

"Malfoy already told me I'm too much of a coward for Gryffindor,"

Harry shook his head, handing Neville the last of his Chocolate Frogs.

"The Sorting Hat's far smarter than Malfoy. It saw you have courage, after all. And it knew Malfoy belonged in lowly, smelly Slytherin, now didn't it?" Harry declared.

"Absolutely," added Emmalee-Grace. "Besides, how many friends does Malfoy have? None, really. Crabbe and Goyle don't count as friends. You've got all four of us. And you're worth more to us than any number of Malfoys could ever be."

Neville gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Harry, Emmalee-Grace. I'm going to go up to bed, now. Did you want to keep the card, Harry? I know you've started collecting them."

Harry looked down at the card, flipping it to the back.

"I knew I'd read Flamel's name before!" Harry whispered. "He was Dumbledore's partner in his work on alchemy!"

Hermione was gone from her seat before anyone could blink. Within moments, she came back, a large book in her arms.

"Of course!" Emmalee-Grace smacked herself on the forehead. "Why didn't I think of checking that one?"

"And I only got this for a bit of light reading," remarked Hermione.

Ron was shocked. "That's light?"

Harry smirked. He remembered some of the books Emmalee-Grace had borrowed from Sev's library over the summer. One of them had easily been four times the size of the one Hermione had brought down.

"While Hermione's looking for the page, Nicholas Flamel is the most famous alchemist," explained Emmalee-Grace.

Hermione nodded, still flipping through the pages. "He made the Sorcerer's Stone. It can turn metal into gold and it can make a person immortal."

"That is, if they drink the Elixir of Life," added the raven-haired girl. "Isn't Flamel over six hundred? Now that I've made the connection."

"Six hundred and sixty-five, and his wife is six hundred and fifty-eight," remarked Hermione, scanning the page.

Ron snorted. "Not exactly recent, is he?"

* * *

Harry felt worse and worse as the Quidditch match got closer. It seemed he was running into Sev everywhere he went. It was like his guardian didn't trust him to stay out of trouble. And his attitude in Potions class had gotten worse. Could Sev read his mind and see what Harry's new friends were thinking about him?

* * *

"Hey, look!" Emmalee-Grace smiled. "Dumbledore came to watch, too!"

She felt relieved, but she still kept her eyes on her foster cousin.

"No wonder Snape looks ready to punish the Gryffindors," remarked Ron. "Ouch!"

Malfoy had walked up behind Ron, hitting him in the back of the head.

Emmalee-Grace blocked out the resulting fight, focusing solely on Harry. Later, she would be unable to explain how she had done it. With Ron, Neville and Malfoy throwing insults and then punches, she was, herself, surprised to learn that they had fought at all. Hermione was much the same in the situation. Emmalee-Grace bit the nails on her right hand, the left one clinging tightly to Hermione's own hand, as Harry dove towards the ground.

"He's got it," she yelled. "Come on!"

Harry streaked past Sev, missing his guardian by mere inches. The Snitch was in his hand as he pulled out of the dive.

"Harry's got the Snitch!" Hermione yelled, throwing her arms around Emmalee-Grace. "Gryffindor has the lead!"

Only Harry saw the fleeting look of relief that crossed Sev's face. However, before he could contemplate what it meant, hew was being congratulated by Dumbledore, of all people.

* * *

An hour later, Harry perched his Nimbus on one shoulder, carrying it towards the broom shed. Now he had a chance to think about why Sev had been so relieved at the end of the match. Surely he hadn't really expected anyone to try and kill him while Dumbledore was watching, had he?

He was about to open the broom shed when he saw his guardian descending form the castle. Black robes billowed behind him as he strode into the Forbidden Forest. Curious, Harry climbed back onto his broom and took off.

He hovered over the trees, searching. A pair of voices drew his attention. Carefully, he landed in a tree and crawled closer to listen better.

He couldn't make out everything, but it sounded like his guardian was threatening the Defense Professor, Quirrell. The question was, why? That wasn't like Sev at all, to threaten someone.

* * *

Harry had waited until both professors had left the forest before returning his broom to the shed. He practically flew, without the broom, back to the castle, himself, to find Hermione, Ron, and Emmalee-Grace. Quickly, he told them what he had heard in the forest.

Hermione started rambling on about how there must be loads more protecting the stone than Fluffy, and that Quirrell must surely be standing up to Snape.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace weren't so sure.

"There's something about Quirrell that creeps me out, Harry," she confided, as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

* * *

Okay, so another short chapter, but the next one should be longer. I apologize. I already have these written out, but it's taking me a while to get them typed. Partially because I have to keep writing ahead to make a friend of mine happy, so she knows the story ahead of everyone else, but also because another friend of mine is insisting that I get all caught up on Supernatural. I hadn't even seen one episode, and she has the first five all on DVD. So, I've been on a time limit to get them all watched. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate your reviews! Keep them coming! Please?


	12. A Dragon and the Forest

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Twelve: A Dragon and the Forest

"Alright, Harry, what are the uses of dittany?" Emmalee-Grace demanded.

Her potions notes were open before her. She looked up at her foster cousin, expectantly.

"Really, Emmalee-Grace?" Harry pleaded.

She glared at him. "Exams are coming up. Do you really want your potions exam to go like the first day of class?"

"No," he sighed, pulling over _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, looking up dittany.

"Hagrid! Why are you here?" Ron asked.

Indeed, Hagrid was shuffling through the Hogwarts library, sticking out like a sore thumb.

"You lot aren't still lookin' for Flamel?"

Emmalee-Grace smiled up at him. "Of course not. We found him months ago, _and_ we know what Fluffy's guarding."

"We did want to ask if Fluffy is all that's guarding it, or is there something else?" Harry added.

"I'm saying nothin' here." Hagrid scowled at them and walked off.

"Up to visiting him later?" Emmalee-Grace asked, innocently.

Ron nodded, coming up to the table with a stack of books in his arms. "Definitely."

Hermione blinked. "I didn't even see you leave, Ron."

"These were in the section Hagrid was in," he explained. "They all have to deal with dragons."

"During tea, that first weekend, didn't Hagrid say something about wanting a dragon?" Harry looked over at his foster cousin.

She nodded. "It's illegal, but yes. He said he'd always wanted one."

"My brother, Charlie, he works with them in Romania. Says he has real plans to improve things for them," added Ron.

* * *

"Alright, Hagrid, what else is protecting the Stone?" Harry asked.

"I don' know, alrigh'? So, I can't tell yeh."

"But, surely, you know who else helped? I mean, as much as Dumbledore trusts you, surely you know who else he asked." A bright smile crossed Emmalee-Grace's face.

The devious look in her eyes was noticed only by Harry.

"I s'pose. A few o' the teachers did their bit. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, McGonagall, Quirrell, and Dumbledore, 'imself. I've forgotten someone. I know I have," stated Hagrid, ticking off his fingers as he listed them. "That's righ'. Professor Snape helped too."

"Snape?" Ron and Hermione yelped.

Emmalee-Grace turned to Harry and whispered, "Bet you he was checking to see how much Quirrell knew, so he knew what to keep Quirrell from finding."

Harry nodded. "Hagrid, no one else knows how to get past Fluffy, right? I mean, besides you and Dumbledore, obviously."

As Hagrid confirmed Harry's statement, Ron and Emmalee-Grace moved closer to the fire, getting a better look at the black egg inside it.

"Hagrid, where did you get a dragon egg?" Ron demanded.

"I won it," he answered. "Played cards with a stranger, down at the pub. Got myself a Norwegian Ridgeback, there."

"But, Hagrid," chorused Hermione and Emmalee-Grace, "your house is made of wood!"

* * *

"I still can't believe Malfoy of all people saw Norbert," groaned Emmalee-Grace.

Harry was trying to persuade Hagrid to let Norbert go, but without any luck. After another plea from Hagrid about not being able to dump Norbert, Harry nodded.

"Charlie."

As he had been looking straight at Ron when he said it, both of his friends were extremely confused. Emmalee-Grace, however, turned and looked right at Harry.

"That's right! Ron's brother, Charlie! He works with dragons in Romania, doesn't he? So Norbert would be with others like him!"

* * *

By week's end, Charlie had agreed to send his friends to come and collect Norbert. Unfortunately, on the day they were to deliver the dragon, Ron was in the Hospital Wing. He hoped the lies he told Madam Pomfrey were convincing, covering up the fact that Norbert had bitten him. However, every one of the four of them was sent into a panic when Malfoy accidentally obtained Charlie's letter.

"We _do_ have an invisibility cloak," reminded Emmalee-Grace. "After all, it's too late to back out, now. We have no choice."

* * *

Emmalee-Grace, Harry, and Hermione followed Filch towards McGonagall's office. Their eyes all widened in surprise to discover Neville was also in the room.

When the professor demanded an explanation for the night's events, not a single one of them could answer. What was there to say, after all?

"Five students out in the corridors, after curfew, in one night?" Professor McGonagall shook her head. "I expected more sense out of you, Miss Granger and Miss Lunaris. Mr. Potter, words simply fail. All four of you will get detentions for this. Yes, including you, Mr. Longbottom. Fifty points from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" Harry stammered out.

"Fifty points for each one of you."

* * *

Two hundred points gone in one night. Harry and Emmalee-Grace waited nervously, expecting some form of punishment from Sev as well.

In order to avoid the rest of the school, the four of them had thrown themselves into preparing for the exams. Even after hearing Quirrell on his way back from the library could not pull Harry from his newest resolution. He wasn't going to interfere. He wouldn't even go to Sev, not without proof the professor could take to Dumbledore.

* * *

"Eleven 'o' clock, detention," reminded Hermione.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. She, Harry, and Neville followed Hermione down to the entrance hall. Filch waited for them, Malfoy at his side.

A few minutes later, Emmalee-Grace found herself walking through the forest with Hermione, Harry, and Hagrid. Poor Neville had been sent to look with Malfoy, Fang 'protecting' them.

"So, if it's not a werewolf, what could be injuring these unicorns?" Hermione asked.

_Unicorns, unicorns_, thought Emmalee-Grace. _Why do I keep thinking I know why this could be happening?_

Books she had read in the Spinner's End library that summer flittered through her head. She kept dismissing them. It was something else. Someone, at some point in time, had told her about unicorns.

She was so focused on trying to remember that she managed to miss the centaur that they encountered. She even managed to miss Hagrid leaving them, until he returned, dragging Malfoy and Neville.

"Sorry, Harry, but you'll have to go with the idiot," declared Hagrid. "Neville, you're with Hermione, Emmalee-Grace, and me."

Half an hour later, Emmalee-Grace stopped, dead in her tracks.

"Hermione, have you ever heard of the purposes of unicorn blood?" Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

The bushy haired girl shook her head. "No. I've never heard or read anything about it. Why?"

"My mama told me. If you drink the blood of a unicorn, you will be saved from approaching death. But it leaves you cursed, for having killed a truly innocent creature. It's a terrible crime," she continued. "We have to find Harry and Malfoy! They're in danger! I know it!"

No sooner had she spoken then Malfoy came charging out of the trees, Fang at his heels.

Hagrid sent Malfoy and Neville back towards the school with Fang. Hermione and Emmalee-Grace hurried after the groundskeeper. They met up with Harry, who was riding another centaur.

"I leave you here, Mr. Potter. This is as safe as you can be." The centaur bowed his head. "I pray this is one of the rare times we centaurs misread the heavens."

* * *

"Voldemort. He's the one after the Stone," declared Harry, pacing the Common Room. "I know he is."

"Yeah, and he's using Snape to do it," added Ron, recently released from the Hospital Wing. "Though, you really need to stop saying that name!"

"Voldemort's planning to come back. Unicorn blood's keeping him alive for now. Soon as he can, he'll come for me."

"Harry, remember what Virgil said? 'He never feared anyone the way he feared Albus Dumbledore,' right? So, as long as Dumbledore's still here, you're alright," commented Emmalee-Grace, placing a hand on her foster cousin's shoulder.

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Emmalee-Grace."

"Just one question, Emmalee-Grace. How did your mum know about unicorn blood? And why did she tell you?" Hermione asked.

Emmalee-Grace's face when ghostly pale. She turned and fled from the room, leaving Hermione's questions unanswered.

* * *

Sorry about the delay for this chapter! I have all the chapters up through sixteen written out. But, I had all of them in a binder that I lent to my friend to read through, before I posted them. Unfortunately, it took a while for her to get the binder back to me. I thought I already had this chapter done when I gave her the binder, but I obviously didn't! I hope that won't keep you from reviewing! At least it gave me the chance to plan out more of what's going to happen!


	13. Professors' Protections

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Thirteen: Professors' Protections

"Hagrid, what did he look like? The stranger who gave you Norbert?" Harry demanded.

"Dunno. Kept his cloak on, whole night. Not that unusual. Least not at the Hog's Head," Hagrid answered.

The color drained from Emmalee-Grace's face. "Did you two discuss Fluffy, at all?"

"Course we did. Had to let him know I could look after a dragon, didn't I? Said the trick is to know how to keep a creature calm. Like Fluffy. Falls asleep as soon as yeh play a bit o' music."

Harry took off, followed by his three best friends. They followed him to McGonagall's office, arriving in time to hear her tell Harry that Dumbledore had left for London.

"Now? But he can't have left!" Harry yelped.

"There are a great many people who have need of Professor Dumbledore's time, Mr. Potter."

"This is extremely important!"

"More important than the Ministry of Magic?"

"It deals with the Sorcerer's Stone," added Emmalee-Grace.

The professor quickly recovered from her shock, before quickly assuring them that the Stone was safe. She then hurried to dismiss them from her office.

Hermione and Ron were all determined to follow Snape, so he couldn't steal the Stone. There was no way for Harry and Emmalee-Grace to speak to their guardian without blowing his cover.

"Then I have to do it," declared Harry. "I have to go after the Stone. Tonight."

"But, you'll be expelled!" Hermione protested.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "I'm coming with you, Harry."

"Better count me in, too," added Ron.

Hermione sighed and then grinned. "Best hope the Invisibility Cloak can cover four of us."

* * *

Harry came down to the Common Room with not only his Cloak, but also his flute from Hagrid. A laugh came from Emmalee-Grace as she emerged from her dorm. She lifted her own flute with a wave.

"And where are you going?" Neville stood up from behind an armchair.

Hermione was quick to assure him. "We aren't going anywhere, Neville."

"You're sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower." Neville glared at them. "You're going to get in even more trouble."

"This is very important, Neville. We have to do this," declared Emmalee-Grace.

Neville moved between them and the portrait hole. "If I need to, I'll fight you!"

Before anyone else could react, Hermione had her wand out, placing Neville in a full Body Bind.

"Sorry, Neville," she stated.

Emmalee-Grace levitated him onto a nearby sofa. "This is for your own good. We can't explain now."

* * *

"That was wicked," whispered Ron.

Emmalee-Grace bit back a laugh. "How many people can say they pranked Peeves?"

Even Harry was still smiling from his believable impersonation of the Bloody Baron.

"I don't think even the twins have pulled that one off." Ron frowned.

The four of them moved quickly to the door to the Forbidden Third Floor Corridor. Hermione once again unlocked the door, before they all moved inside. They found Fluffy. The dog searched around angrily, not being able to see them, even when he could clearly smell them.

"Looks like Snape left his harp," remarked Ron.

A frown crossed Emmalee-Grace's still invisible face. _But Sev doesn't play the harp._

She pulled out her flute, playing alongside Harry. Once Ron and Hermione had gotten the trapdoor open, Harry motioned that he would go first. Ron and Hermione both followed. Emmalee-Grace backed towards the trapdoor, still playing, right up until she jumped through the door.

* * *

With some prodding from the others, Hermione managed to get them all free of the Devil's Snare. Harry was, of course, the one to catch the winged key, and Ron sacrificed himself to get them past the giant chess sets.

Emmalee-Grace let out a sigh of relief when they passed the unconscious troll. She scowled, however, when they were confronted by the seven bottles.

Hermione read the riddle, before turning to the other two. "This is genius. Logic, a puzzle, not magic."

"Must be Professor Snape's," remarked Harry.

"Wait, I remember this riddle," declared Emmalee-Grace, taking the parchment from Hermione and reading it through, herself. "The smallest bottle holds the potion to move forward."

"And to go back?" Harry asked.

Reluctantly, Emmalee-Grace lifted the bottle at the right end of the bottles. "This one."

"You and Hermione head back. I'll go on alone. Get Ron, take the brooms, and get to Dumbledore," he ordered.

Leaning close, he whispered in Emmalee-Grace's ear. "If Dumbledore still isn't back, go to Sev."

"Be careful, Harry." Emmalee-Grace hugged him. "I'll see you soon."

She downed half the bottle of potion, passing the other to Hermione. They ran through the purple flames, back past the unconscious troll. It took several minutes to wake Ron, but they were soon back in the room of the winged keys. Hermione's knuckles were white as she clutched her broom. Emmalee-Grace and Ron soared ahead of her. Her flute was already to her lips as the raven-haired girl approached the still open trapdoor. Fluffy was fast asleep before their brooms cleared the opening.

They charged through the halls, heading for McGonagall's office. With a crash, they ran straight into someone. Looking up, the trio found themselves staring at the Headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore, someone's after the Sorcerer's Stone!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron nodded, out of breath.

"Harry went to try and stop them," added Emmalee-Grace. "I don't know how long he can hold them off."

"Get Mr. Weasley and yourselves to the Hospital Wing, Miss Lunaris, Miss Granger. I will go assist Mr. Potter," he assured them, before disappearing down the way they had come.

* * *

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw Dumbledore sitting beside his bed. However, a weight on his hand drew his attention. Emmalee-Grace was fast asleep in the chair beside him, clinging to his hand with both of hers.

"She's refused to leave your side since you were brought in, Mr. Potter," explained the Headmaster.

"How long ago was that?"

"Three days."

The Headmaster explained to Harry how the stone had been dealt with and that he was fortunate that Professor Dumbledore had arrived in time.

"Sir, do you know why Professor Snape hates my father? At least, Quirrell said he did," stated Harry.

"The situation between them was not that different than what is between yourself and young Mr. Malfoy. Until your father did something unforgivable. He saved Severus's life."

"Really?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"So, how did Harry do it? How did he get the Stone?" Emmalee-Grace asked, not even bothering to open her eyes.

Harry had to bite back a laugh. His foster cousin was really good at pretending to sleep, until her curiosity got the better of her.

"One of my few brilliant ideas. You see, Harry wanted to find the Stone, not use it." Dumbledore smiled at them. "Now, Miss Lunaris, I suggest you help Mr. Potter handle all of these sweets."

* * *

Hagrid showed up a few hours later, giving Harry a photo album, filled with pictures of his parents. The pages were covered in photos he'd never seen in Sev's small collection.

The one that held his attention the longest must have been from his first birthday. He was held in his mother's arms, his dad standing behind them, arms wrapped around his wife. Gramps leaned in, one hand on his son's shoulder.

Harry pulled it out of the album, still staring at it as he handed the book over to Emmalee-Grace. She flipped through it, pausing on one of the pictures. Keeping a careful eye on Harry, she removed the photo from the book. She would figure out later why her mama was in a photo with Lily Potter and another woman, in the middle of a snow-filled park. For right now, it was enough to have a piece of her mother.

* * *

"It is time for to award the House Cup," declared Dumbledore. "But, first, I need to make some adjustments in points."

The entire school body turned to stare at the Headmaster.

"Mr. Ronald Weasley, for a spectacular game of chess, best Hogwarts has ever witnessed, in fact, I award you and Gryffindor House, fifty points."

Percy's voice could be heard over the shouts of Gryffindor, boasting about his little brother beating McGonagall's chess set.

"Miss Hermione Granger, for excellent conjuring and deductive reasoning, I award you and Gryffindor House, fifty points.

"Miss Emmalee-Grace Lunaris, for amazing memory and the ability to remain calm under pressure, I award you and Gryffindor House, fifty points."

The tension in the Great Hall was mounting to an almost tangible level.

"Mr. Harry Potter, for your sheer nerve and courage beyond compare, I award you and Gryffindor House, sixty points."

Most of the hall was screaming in joy. Others voiced loud protests at the tie between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The hall finally quieted as Dumbledore raised his hands.

"However, there is someone else who displayed outstanding courage. Courage that is needed as much as any other, though it requires more to use it. The courage to stand up to one's friends. For displaying this courage, I award ten points to Gryffindor House and Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Emmalee-Grace was the first to throw her arms around Neville, followed quickly by Hermione.

"But I've always lost points. I've never even gotten one," choked out Neville.

"And you just got ten to win us the House Cup!" Emmalee-Grace laughed.

* * *

"We'll write you all summer," promised Hermione.

Ron nodded. "You'll have to come and visit."

Harry and Emmalee-Grace both grinned at their friends.

"We'll talk to Virgil about it," agreed Harry.

They followed Ron over to his family. Harry had insisted on thanking Mrs. Weasley for their Christmas gifts.

"Harry, Emmalee-Grace! Over here!"

Virgil Netherson strode through the crowd, waving at his young wards.

"Have a good holiday," called Emmalee-Grace, looking back over her shoulder.

The three of them walked through the crowd, until they reached a secluded alcove. Virgil smiled down at them, before Apparating them back to Spinner's End.

* * *

And so ends the first year at Hogwarts! I'll work on getting second year up quickly. I have that one all written out, so I'm caught between typing it up and working on writing out third year. Hopefully, the next chapter will be up by the end of next week. I make no guarantees, but I will try. See you soon!


	14. The Idiot, the House Elf, and the Chambe

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in that world.

Chapter Fourteen: The House-Elf, the Idiot, and the Chamber

Harry ducked as a book went flying across the library at Spinner's End. It was soon followed by several others, causing him to retreat towards the door.

"He's such a pompous ignoramus!" Emmalee-Grace declared. "I really don't want to take Defense Against the Dark Arts this year!"

"Problems, Emmalee-Grace?" Sev entered the room, eyeing the pile of books curiously.

"What was the Headmaster thinking? Hiring an egotistical idiot like Lockhart? There's nothing informative in any of those books. I wager half of what he does say about the Dark Arts is inaccurate!" Raven hair flew around her face as she stormed over to the books. "Waste of money to buy these!"

Harry shrugged. "So Defense is going to be a load of laughs."

"And I doubt he'll last the year," added Sev. "They haven't in decades."

Emmalee-Grace folded her arms. "Next year's professor had better be decent."

* * *

As the train pulled away from King's Cross, Emmalee-Grace began to worry. She'd seen the other Weasleys pile onto the train, including Ginny, the only daughter, who was starting her first year. But there had been no sign of Ron, and especially, no sign of Harry. Moments after the train began moving, the compartment door opened and Hermione stepped in.

"No Harry? I thought you two were almost inseparable," remarked Hermione. "Unless, he's with Ron?"

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "And that worries me. I didn't see either of them make it onto the train. And, after this summer…"

"This summer? What was with never answering my letters, either of you?"

"A house-elf, named Dobby, was stopping all of our mail, unless it was addressed to Virgil. Apparently, Dobby wanted Harry to stay away from Hogwarts this year. Something bad is supposed to happen. He thought if Harry believed his friends had forgotten about him, Harry wouldn't want to go back."

"But Harry still had you and Virgil," remarked the bushy-haired girl.

"Yeah. I can't help but wonder if Dobby didn't try something again."

"You'll see when we get to Hogwarts. You never know. They could just be in another compartment and they'll meet up with us in the Great Hall. You just missed seeing them in all the confusion."

Emmalee-Grace wasn't so convinced, but she tried to smile, for Hermione's sake.

* * *

Pale grey eyes blinked as she looked at the carriages. What were those creatures pulling the carriages? By the expression on Hermione's face, she couldn't see them. Looking around, she noticed most people didn't even notice the creatures, either. A few seemed to regard the creatures warily, but most acted as if there was nothing pulling the carriages, at all.

"Hermione, is there anything in _Hogwarts, A History_ about the carriages?"

Hermione shook her head. "Actually, there's not. Just that the students used to have to walk, and then they switched to the carriages. I suppose some sort of enchantment pulls them. Why?"

"Just curious. Virgil still hasn't gotten me a copy, and I can never find one in the library."

"I'd lend you mine, but I didn't bring it this year," admitted her friend. "There wasn't any room in my trunk. Not with all of Lockhart's wondrous books."

"Wondrous? More like idiotic drivel." Emmalee-Grace let out a snort.

Hermione blinked in surprise.

"I'm not sure I'm going to survive Defense this year, not with him teaching," the raven-haired girl continued. "I mean, how much more self-absorbed could he get?"

"He is not self-absorbed!" Hermione defended.

"Riiiight."

Emmalee-Grace pointedly ignored Hermione all the way up to the castle. The mystery of the spectral mounts played in her mind. Maybe she'd be able to ask Sev, first chance she got. She resolved again to badger him into giving her a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ She couldn't very well rely on Hermione for everything that was in the book, after all.

* * *

"That takes a lot of talent and guts, Harry," remarked his foster cousin. "Term hasn't even started and you've already got a detention. I'm impressed."

Harry grunted. "Just leave me alone, Emmalee-Grace. I don't want to talk about it."

She folded her arms and stormed up to her dormitory. Inside, she almost turned around and walked back out.

"He's won the Most Charming Smile Award more times than any other wizard in history," exclaimed Hermione.

Pavarti sighed. "His eyes are just so dreamy, aren't they?"

"I can't wait for our first Defense class," remarked Lavender, her gaze distant. "I just know I'll learn loads listening to Professor Lockhart!"

Emmalee-Grace groaned and threw herself onto her bed. She grabbed the enchanted earmuffs Sev had given her for her birthday. The gushing of her dormmates was quickly silenced and replaced by the sound of a summer rainstorm. The earmuffs were also equipped with an alarm to wake her in time for breakfast. At least, so Sev had assured her.

* * *

"Well, that was a disaster of a class," remarked Harry.

Ron nodded. "How did we get roped into cleaning up Lockhart's mess?"

"We were the only ones not smart enough to run while we could," commented Emmalee-Grace. "Can't call Lockhart so wonderful now, can you, Hermione?"

Hermione merely glared at her before taking off ahead of them.

"How is it you seem to be the only girl not taken in by Lockhart? Not that I'm complaining, mind you," Ron asked, surprised.

Emmalee-Grace shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea."

One hand came up to fiddle with the raven necklace Sev had given to her last Christmas. She never went anywhere without it, after all.

* * *

"I'm starting to think Ron was right about this one. A Deathday Party is extremely depressing," stated Emmalee-Grace. "Especially when Myrtle gets invited."

Ron nodded. "Reckon there's any dessert left in the Great Hall?"

Harry froze, stopping several steps behind his friends. Emmalee-Grace was the first to notice her foster cousin's absence.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

Her foster cousin pressed his ear against the wall, listening intently.

"The voice is back," he whispered.

Emmalee-Grace hurried over to him. "I don't hear anything."

Ron and Hermione both nodded their agreement. However, Harry was already running down the hall.

As they ran, Emmalee-Grace frowned. She could make out a hissing voice, now, though it's words were not clear. It was like listening to a voice through a great deal of static, or in a language she wasn't fluent in, though she knew a few words. Her face paled when she heard Harry's exclamation that the voice was planning to kill.

When they rounded a corner, Hermione let out a small gasp. The four of them stared at the large letters smeared on the wall. Emmalee-Grace was the first to release a squeal of terror. One trembling hand pointed to the object hanging below the message.

"It's-it's Mrs. Norris," she choked out.

Ron made the suggestion to leave, but it didn't come soon enough. Students came pouring into the corridor, coming straight from supper. Talking and laughing stopped the moment the students in front spotted Mrs. Norris.

Malfoy's voice rang out over the silent crowd, declaring that Mudbloods would be next. When Filch arrived, he accused all four of them of killing his cat. Dumbledore quickly materialized as ushered them into Lockhart's office. Filch was adamant that the four of them all be punished. When Professor Snape stepped forward and spoke, Emmalee-Grace half-believed he might defend them. However, he only increased suspicion on them, bringing up how they had missed supper to attend the Deathday Party and 'weren't hungry.' It didn't help that they couldn't come up with a believable explanation for being in that particular corridor.

Harry sent a thankful look at his foster cousin when Dumbledore pointed out that none of them were capable of such Dark Magic as to Petrify Mrs. Norris. Part of him was relieved to learn that the cat was still alive. After all, even as annoying as she was, he didn't think she deserved death, not like that. But, still, who could have done it?

* * *

"I can't believe it! Not a single copy of _Hogwarts, A History_!" Hermione complained.

"I told you so," remarked Emmalee-Grace, not bothering to look up from her History of Magic essay. "Why do you think I kept asking to borrow yours? Serves you right for putting Lockhart so high on the priority list."

Hermione glared at her. "There are other available sources. Just none of the books have anything on the Chamber of Secrets."

"Well, if it really is history, maybe you could get Binns to cover it," stated Harry, grinning.

* * *

"I was only joking, Hermione!" Harry shouldered his bag.

Emmalee-Grace, however, frowned. "I think our fellow Gryffindors were on to something. You know, about Slytherin's Heir being the only one who can find the Chamber. I mean, there's got to be a reason no one's been able to find it."

"I agree with you on that," remarked Hermione. "I don't think Mrs. Norris was attacked by anything human."

"The thing that gets me, though, is why they picked the corridor by Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I mean, most people avoid her, so it's sort of an inconvenient place to put your warning," muttered the raven-haired girl.

Hermione shook her head. "Not that particular corridor. You saw the number of students that came down that hall to get to their dorms that night."

* * *

"Colin Creevey? Isn't he the camera-happy first-year?" Emmalee-Grace asked.

She walked with Ron and Hermione into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, arms full of potions ingredients.

Hermione nodded, "The one who's always tagging after Harry, yes. Thanks, by the way. You're so much better at Potions than any of the rest of us."

"Just don't expect me to drink it. I still don't think invading the Slytherin Common Room is going to give us any answers. Even if it is Malfoy, I really doubt he'd have told Crabbe and Goyle."

Ron shrugged. "It's the best we've got, Emmalee-Grace. I don't see you coming up with a better solution."

* * *

"Are you sure you won't come with us, Emmalee-Grace?" Hermione asked.

"For the millionth time," retorted Emmalee-Grace, "I'm not coming. Tell Harry and Ron I said good luck. I'll just stay here."

Emmalee-Grace laid back on her bed, staring at the black canopy.

"Alright," stated Hermione, closing the door behind her.

Once she was alone, the raven-haired girl reached under her pillow. She pulled out a thick black book, with silver lettering, reading _Parselmouths Through the Ages_.

"In all of history, surely there was one good Parselmouth," she muttered. "There's no reason to say Harry and I have to go evil, just because we can understand snakes. Not that I can understand them as well as he can. And not that I'm sharing that little tidbit with anyone but Harry. They really don't need to know I have a vague understanding of Parseltongue. Not even Virgil needs to know that."

* * *

"You can't seriously believe Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets! I mean, come on! If Hagrid opened it, do you think it would still be hidden?" Emmalee-Grace reasoned. "Come on. Think about it, Hermione!"

The two of them were sitting in their dormitory, going over the lists of new classes available for third year students.

Hermione blinked and looked up at her. "You know, you do have a point there. Look at how well he kept the secrets about Fluffy, Flamel, and the Sorcerer's Stone, last year. But, if it wasn't Hagrid, then who? Now, I'm thinking I'm just going to sign up for everything. I mean, they all sound so fascinating!"

"Even Muggle Studies? You're a Muggle-born, Hermione! Then again, you'd probably end up helping teach the class, wouldn't you? Arithmancy sounds good, and so does Ancient Runes. Pity there's not a Potions elective. I know you don't care for Snape, but I live for Potions. Comes from my Mama, I guess."

"You don't like to talk about her much, do you?"

"Not really. I haven't seen her in years. I don't even know where she is, if she's alright. I miss her, more than anything. You've no idea how much it hurts to talk about her."

Seeing the tears in her friend's eyes, Hermione tried to change the subject. "So, you've made your decision on classes, then?"

"I think I'm going to follow your example. Someone needs to keep up with you," came the reply. "I'm just going to sign up for everything."

* * *

"I can't stand those Slytherin girls," groaned Emmalee-Grace.

She ducked into the first bathroom she found. She hurried to the sink, hoping to wash most of the gunk off her face. For some reason, a pair of second year Slytherin girls had decided to dump a bucked of mud-colored sludge down on her. Probably because she was cousin to the famous Harry Potter, not to mention she was a Gryffindor.

When it felt like all the sludge was gone, she looked up at the mirror to make sure. However, movement behind her caught her attention. It took no time at all for her to recognize that she was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She barely had time to register that, and the fact that Ginny Weasley was standing behind her. In the reflection over the sink, she spotted a pair of great big yellow eyes in a serpentine face, just behind Ginny. Then, the world went black.

* * *

Harry followed Professor McGonagall into the Hospital Wing. He and Ron spotted Hermione, lying on one of the beds. They were instantly by her side.

McGonagall asked them about the mirror found by Hermione's side. No sooner had they both answered that they had no clues, than the door to the Hospital Wing opened again. An extremely pale Professor Snape levitated a person into the room, laying the student carefully onto a bed near Hermione.

Harry was on his feet and by her side before anyone could blink.

"Emmalee-Grace! Emmalee-Grace, please, wake up!"

"Where was she, Severus?" McGonagall turned to him.

He took a deep, steadying breath. "Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I was alerted by Myrtle, herself. Apparently, I was the first professor she ran into after finding Miss Lunaris. If you will excuse me, I have to go speak to my House."

Harry lifted his head and watched his guardian walk away. Apparently, no one else had noticed the trembling in his hands, or the worried tone in his voice.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace ran out of the Hospital Wing, Hermione at her side. They both fled to the Great Hall, quickly locating Harry and Ron.

"I want a full explanation!" Emmalee-Grace demanded. "What was that thing?"

"A basilisk," supplied Hermione. "It was using the pipes, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded. "It was Voldemort. He was the one controlling it. His real name was Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"He made Hagrid his scapegoat!" Emmalee-Grace realized, angrily.

Ron nodded. "He was controlling my sister, through his diary."

"But the diary is destroyed, the basilisk is dead, everyone's awake, Ginny's fine, and Dobby, by the way, is freed," concluded Harry.

Emmalee-Grace had to smile, before glancing up at the Head Table. She found Professor Snape and her smile widened as she nodded to him. He gave a slight nod in return, relief in his eyes.

* * *

"Well, that year ended pretty well," remarked Harry, as the Hogwarts Express left Hogsmeade Station. "A lot better than expected from how it began."

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "I'll be glad to get home, though. I've missed Virgil. Besides, I need to pester him for a copy of _Hogwarts, A History."_

"This year proved you need your own copy," agreed Hermione.

"And no more Lockhart!" Ron grinned. "I'm glad to see the last of him!"

"Especially when you find out he was using charms on himself to make himself more appealing," muttered Emmalee-Grace. "That's completely cheating, on top of Obliviating all those people and taking all the credit."

Harry nodded. "So, did you ever figure out why it didn't work on you?"

"I wrote to Virgil, and he explained it. It was in his Christmas present, from first year. There's a lot of protection charms embedded in my necklace. It's just a pity protection against basilisks wasn't one of them," she explained.

The compartment on the train was soon filled with laughter.

* * *

When they arrived at King's Cross Station, Harry immediately spotted Virgil running towards them. Their guardian grabbed Emmalee-Grace and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Please, don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered. "Either of you!"

He shot a reproving glare at Harry over Emmalee-Grace's head. The boy nodded, quickly.

"It wasn't like I did it on purpose," complained Emmalee-Grace.

Virgil nodded, pressing a kiss into her hair. Harry blinked, astonished. Virgil wasn't one for public displays of affection. In fact, he'd never seen Virgil kiss anyone, come to think of it.

"I lost ten years off my life, finding you in that bathroom," their guardian confided, loud enough only the two of them heard him. "Now, let's get home. Aconite has a feast planned for you, both."

* * *

And here's all of second year, conveniently condensed down into a single chapter! I warned you that it wasn't my favorite year!

Work's been a bit crazy, so I wasn't able to get this up as quickly as I would have liked. I'm still in the process of writing out third year, which will be added onto this story, too. That year will end up being longer that than one. Here's hoping I can get the next chapter up quicker, but I make no promises.

I decided to change things this chapter. I'm taking a page out of dopey4dobby's book. I'm going to guilt you all into reviewing.

GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT GUILT


	15. Summer Adventures

Author's Note: I don't know about this. I may have to guilt you people more often. I got four reviews within ten hours! Ten hours! Okay, moving on. Without further ado, I present to you the first chapter of third year!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Fifteen: Summer Adventures

So far, the summer had been fairly uneventful. Or, at least, for Harry it had been. He'd been thirteen for a whole week, now, and everyone else was having adventures. He grinned, looking up at the newspaper clipping pinned to his wall. Ron and his family all waved eagerly in front of the pyramids of Egypt. On the shelf beside the clipping rested his present from Ron, a Pocket Sneakoscope.

Flown from France, where she was vacationing with her family, Hermione's gift, a Broomstick Servicing Kit, lay on the floor, underneath his Nimbus 2000. Hagrid's present, the _Monster Book of Monsters_, was securely tied shut and buried under Lockhart's books for good measure. Emmalee-Grace had joked that the books were good for something when she saw the stack.

The thought of his foster cousin brought a frown to his face. Even though it was now August 6th, he had yet to receive his present from her. They'd both gotten their gifts from Sev, on August 2nd. For Harry, he'd gotten his own copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_. It was with a knowing look that their guardian had handed Emmalee-Grace her book, _Most Potente Potions. _A blush had covered her face when she'd unwrapped it.

Harry'd even handed over his gift to her. He'd decided to do what Sev hadn't. The copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ had eared him the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

Then again, Emmalee-Grace hadn't quite been herself, recently. Not since Sev had taken her to London, a couple of weeks ago. His foster cousin had been complaining of headaches and had been squinting every time she tried to read. It hadn't really surprised Harry when Sev had brought her back, wearing a pair of silver-rimmed, rectangular glasses. For some unknown reason, the need to wear glasses had pulled Emmalee-Grace into a bad mood.

A hesitant knock came on Harry's door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Come in," he called out.

Emmalee-Grace edged the door open, a small package in her hands.

"I'm sorry I'm late with this. It took forever for me to decide what to get you. Then, when I ordered it, they were all out, so I had to wait," she explained, hesitantly.

Harry smiled. "That's alright. Go ahead, sit down."

She nodded, pulling over the chair from his desk. She dropped the small package into his hands.

Carefully, Harry peeled away the paper, revealing a small white box, with the logo for Quality Quidditch Supplies on top. Inside was nestled a Golden Snitch.

"It's a practice one. You can set it so you can chase it around your room or a Quidditch Pitch, or even the cliffs at Potter Cottage, if we ever go back. And, you won't really be using magic to set it. All you have to do is tell it what the boundaries are," she remarked. "Unlike a real Snitch, you can use it as many times as you'd like."

"It's perfect, Emmalee-Grace!"

"Well, you did get me that copy of _Hogwarts, A History._"

A slight smile crossed her face, before she pulled her feet up to rest on the edge of the chair. Her arms wrapped themselves around her knees.

"I found out why Sev's been so strange, the past few weeks," she murmured.

Harry dropped his Snitch back into it's box. He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, facing her.

Usually, their guardian left the _Daily Prophet_ lying around, in case Harry or Emmalee-Grace wanted to read it, the way they had when Ron's family had been on the front page. Also, their usual trips to the park had become severely limited. Sev had to be with them, and they could never stay long. He also seemed to be avoiding them, as if he had something on his mind. Until today, he hadn't had a possible explanation.

"Why?" Harry urged her.

However, she didn't get a chance to speak before Harry's door opened again. Sev stood in the doorway, a worried expression on his face.

"I hate to do this, but I'm needed back at Hogwarts. I can't exactly let the two of you stay here, though. Go ahead, get everything packed into your trunks. You'll be taking the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley. You'll stay at the Leaky Cauldron until it's time to go back to Hogwarts. Harry, you said the Weasleys will be in Diagon Alley, the last week of holidays?"

Harry nodded, mutely.

"Excellent. I am sorry. This is a last minute summons by Professor Dumbledore." Sev bowed his head before walking back out of the room.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "I'll tell you later, Harry."

* * *

Sev waited at the front door when Harry and Emmalee-Grace finally made their way downstairs. Aconite came behind them, levitating their trunks.

"Again, I am sorry," remarked their guardian.

He handed Harry the Gringott's key to the Potter Vault and a small bag of coins to Emmalee-Grace.

"Go ahead and get your school supplies. Behave while you're in Diagon Alley. Don't venture back into Muggle London. Promise me." Sev bent down to look both of them in the eye. "Things have become rather complicated of late. It's for the best that you two don't wander around."

Harry nodded. "Of course, Sev."

"Absolutely," agreed Emmalee-Grace. "Oh, what about our Hogsmeade forms?"

"I'm afraid you won't be going to Hogsmeade this year," stated Sev, already opening the door.

A triple-decker bus, painted a vibrant purple, stopped in front of the house.

"I'll see both of you on September 1st. Remember, now, stay in Diagon Alley!"

Harry and Emmalee-Grace were helped onto the bus by a pimply nineteen-year-old who had introduced himself as Stan Shunpike. Inside, they didn't find the seats Harry was expecting. Instead, there were a number of beds, spaced along the length of the bus. Looking over at his foster cousin, he was surprised to see how pale she had gone. It was as if stepping onto the Knight Bus pulled her farther back into herself.

"Where to, then?" Stan demanded.

Harry turned back to him, answering confidently. "The Leaky Cauldron, in London, if you please."

"Both of yeh? Twenty-two Sickles, then."

Harry pulled the coins out of his pocket and handed them over.

"Alright, Ern, let's go." Stan turned back to the driver.

Emmalee-Grace curled up on one of the beds, pulling her knees up and resting her chin on them. Harry could have sworn he saw a tear in her eye.

"You alright, Emmalee-Grace?" Harry sank down on the next bed.

A loud bang was heard and they were suddenly nowhere near Spinner's End.

Ern didn't even bother to look over his shoulder as he told Stan to wake someone called Madam Marsh. Apparently they were somewhere near Abergavenny. Though Harry was sure that was somewhere in Wales.

Shortly after leaving Madam Marsh behind, Stan took up a seat behind Ern. With a snap, he pulled out the latest issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

A man stared out at Harry from the front page. Long matted hair fell around his drawn face.

"Who is that?" Harry asked.

Stan looked over at him, astonished.

"Sorry. Our guardian hasn't exactly let us have the paper, recently."

"This is Sirius Black," stated Stan, pulling off the front page of the paper. "Reckon you ought to know who he is."

A shiver ran down Emmalee-Grace's spine as Stan proceeded to inform Harry all about Sirius Black. The shiver, however, had nothing at all to do with the escaped convict. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back the tears.

"_It'll be alright, Emmie. You'll see. We'll be going to a new town, a new start for both of us. Just think, we'll be in a small town, no more noisy cabbies, no more heavy traffic. It'll be a lot quieter," whispered a gentle voice. _

_Emmalee-Grace felt her mother brush the hair away from her face. They rocked with the swaying of the Knight Bus._

"_I don't want to go. I'm leaving all my friends." The five-year-old whined, keeping her eyes tightly shut. "I wanna go back to New York City."_

_Her mother tried to consol her. "You'll make new friends, Emmie."_

"_Do we have to leave because I don't have a dad?"_

"_No, of course not. And you do have a dad."_

"_Then, where is he?"_

Emmalee-Grace sniffled and opened her eyes. She heard Stan announce that they had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. Slowly, she followed Harry down the steps of the Knight Bus. Her foster cousin shot a questioning look over his shoulder as they walked into the pub. She didn't say a word. Harry shrugged and turned to talk to Tom, the barkeep, about their rooms.

* * *

A groan escaped from Emmalee-Grace as she dragged Harry away from the display window at Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"For the hundredth thousandth time, Harry, you don't need a Firebolt," she muttered. "So there's no point coming here to stare at it, day after day. Come on. It's time we went shopping for our school supplies.

Harry sighed. "Fine. I have to head to Gringotts, first."

"I'll meet up with you at Flourish and Blotts. Virgil gave me extra, so I can do a little book shopping for myself." She gave a slight smile.

Her behavior in Diagon Alley was the closest she'd come to being her old self since she'd gotten her glasses. Knowing full well Emmalee-Grace hated the Gringotts carts, Harry nodded.

"There's no need for you to come with me. Um, besides Flourish and Blotts, where else do you need to stop?"

"Madam Malkin's, the Apothecary, and Eeylops. I wanted to get more Owl Treats for Asphodel. He doesn't seem to be fond of the ones at Hogwarts."

"Too bad you won't be able to go to Hogsmeade and pick up more," remarked Harry.

Emmalee-Grace frowned. "I know! And, I was sooo looking forward to Honeydukes. I'd come back with plenty of Droobles!"

"You and your Droobles!" He let out a laugh before heading towards the Wizarding bank.

* * *

"Hermione, you're here!" Emmalee-Grace dragged Harry over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

He bit back a groan. He'd been hoping to escape Emmalee-Grace and go see the Firebolt again. The resigned look on his face turned into a smile when he saw Hermione's companion.

"Hey, Ron! How was Egypt?"

The red head immediately launched into telling all about his trip, the mummies and the tombs. Emmalee-Grace shook her head and sat down next to Hermione.

"Did you get all your books yet?" Hermione asked.

She nodded. "Harry's eyes just about fell out of their sockets when he saw how many books I got. But, then again, I bought others that I don't need for classes. Harry got me _Hogwarts, A History_ for my birthday, though."

"Excellent! Speaking of birthdays, I still have a few Galleons. Mum and Dad told me to spend it on an early birthday present."

"What? Another book?" Ron turned to her.

"No. I was thinking more along the lines of an owl. Come on. Harry's got Hedwig, Emmalee-Grace has Asphodel, and you've got Errol, don't you?"

"No, I have Scabbers. Errol belongs to the whole family," corrected Ron, pulling the rat out of his pocket. "And he needs some help. I think Egypt was murder on him."

Emmalee-Grace and Harry both stood up.

"Come on. We know the best place to go," stated Harry.

"We should," added Emmalee-Grace. "We've been here almost all month."

* * *

It was late that night when Harry knocked on the door to Room 10. Emmalee-Grace blinked in astonishment, but she still let him in, despite the hour.

"What's going on, Harry?"

"You said you figured out why Sev was acting so strange," he reminded her.

She nodded. "Because a murderer escaped from Azkaban."

"I think it's more than that. There's a reason Black escaped. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley don't know I was listening. I heard them talking about Black. He's coming after me."

"So that's why Sev became so protective and distant this summer." Realization dawned in her eyes. "And why he didn't sign our Hogsmeade forms! It'd be harder for Black to sneak into Diagon Alley undetected, but Hogsmeade would be far easier!"

Harry nodded. "And it also explains the Ministry cars, tomorrow. I'm sure the Ministry knows I'm here, and they're protecting me."

"If it's not one thing, it's another." Emmalee-Grace shook her head. "First the Sorcerer's Stone, then the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and now you've got a mass murderer after you."

* * *

Ha, another chapter done. And up faster than the last one! I've only got the next two and a half chapters written out, so I'm trying to work on those. Meaning it may take me a little longer to get the next chapter up, but I will try to get it done. Working six days a week isn't helping matters much!


	16. A Dementor, Divination, and Danger

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Sixteen: A Dementor, Divination, and Danger

Emmalee-Grace let out a squeak as the lights went out. When Harry dropped back down next to her, he found his arm trapped in her grip.

"Looks like some people are coming aboard," stated Ron, pressing up against the window.

After the door opening twice, and several exclamations of pain, the quartet were joined by Neville and Ginny. Hermione's pet cat, Crookshanks, hadn't been entirely pleased by Neville's arrival. But, then again, the boy had tried to sit on the cat.

It surprised all six of them when a horse voice commanded their silence. A handful of pale, shivering flames appeared, making Emmalee-Grace think of the bluebell flames Hermione liked to conjure. They illuminated the carriage, making Professor Lupin even more tired-looking than he had appeared before.

The door slid open a third time, though no person walked through it. Instead, the figure glided in, draped in a tattered black cloak. The temperature in the compartment dropped several degrees. All the raven-haired girl could think of was the traditional portrayal of Death, or even the Ghost of Christmas-Yet-To-Come. The images flashed quickly through her mind before another one appeared.

Hazel eyes, filled with malicious insanity, looked before her. She could feel the hand make contact with her cheek and the fist ram into her eye. She could feel herself lifted up and thrown into a brick wall, before a hand tightened around her throat. She couldn't even manage a scream, her hands coming up to grasp the hand that was strangling her. Her eyes drifted shut as she lost consciousness, succumbing to the helplessness she felt.

As suddenly as the vision and feeling of helplessness had come, they were gone. She woke up to find Hermione and Ginny kneeling beside her. Only a short distance away, Ron and Neville hovered near Harry.

A loud snap drew everyone's attention. The professor stepped over, handing each of them a piece of chocolate.

Slowly, Harry sat up, demanding to know what that creature had been. Upon hearing the word, 'dementor', Emmalee-Grace quickly bit into her chocolate.

"It really does help," she stated, as warmth returned to her body. "Honest."

The others quickly followed suit as Professor Lupin left to talk to the conductor.

* * *

Handing her tea cup over to Hermione, Emmalee-Grace couldn't help but roll her eyes. At the very least, Divination should prove hilarious.

"Well, that certainly looks like an owl," muttered Emmalee-Grace. "Let's see. That certainly fits. Wisdom, knowledge and learning. And a star, well, that's success, recognition and praise. Though that's definitely a question mark. So, reconsider your plans, Hermione. Maybe it's talking about all the classes you're taking. It is hovering over a volcano, after all. And that means to deal with a problem before it explodes."

"It's all rubbish," muttered her best friend.

"Come on Hermione, lighten up. Have a little fun. I mean, I've had people read tea leaves for me before. You can't tell me anything I haven't heard." Emmalee-Grace gave a slight smile. "It's easy. Just look for shapes in the tea leaves, you know, like you do when you watch clouds. I know you can do that."

Hermione let out a sniff. "I suppose I can humor you, Emmalee-Grace. Most of this doesn't really look like anything. I have four though, that kind-of look like the shapes in the book. You have a skull, a falcon, what look's like a closed book, and that one's a butterfly. So, according to _Unfogging the Future,_ you have a danger in your path, from a deadly enemy. You need to investigate a question you have, and you'll receive overdue happiness."

The bushy-haired girl set down the cup with an annoyed sigh. A frown crossed her face as she looked at Emmalee-Grace. Her friend had gone pale.

"Are you alright?"

Before she could answer, Professor Trelawney swooped over and picked up Harry's cup. Emmalee-Grace used the time to pull herself back together. She almost fell apart again, hearing the professor predict Harry's death. The experience with the dementor was still too fresh in her mind.

* * *

"You can't admit there's actually something you're not good at for a change!" Ron snapped at Hermione.

Hermione's extremely thick Arithmancy book dropped onto the table. Before she could even speak, however, Emmalee-Grace dropped a hand onto her shoulder.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Divination's going to be a bunch of laughs. It'll be fun," coaxed her friend. "But, of course, it's no where near as funny as sitting through Muggle Studies. Did you see the looks on some of their faces? The class is priceless."

Hermione gave a slight laugh. "You're right, Emmalee-Grace. Though Arithmancy was much more interesting. I mean, the magical meanings behind numbers? At least that's logical!"

* * *

One hand came up to stroke the feathers on the side of the golden hippogriff's head.

"They're beautiful creatures. They truly are," whispered Emmalee-Grace, a bit of awe in her voice. "I don't think I've ever seen any creatures more magnificent."

Hermione nodded, silently, still standing several feet back.

"If these are the kind of creatures Hagrid's going to have us study, we'll do pretty good," added Ron.

A smile crossed the faces of both girls. Neither got a chance to speak, however. A shrill cry ripped through the air. It surprised them to find it was Draco Malfoy who had screamed.

He clutched one arm to his side, scuttling away from an enraged hippogriff like a blonde crab.

Emmalee-Grace looked towards Harry, confused. The expression on her foster cousin's face said he wasn't at all surprised.

* * *

"He insulted Buckbeak," explained Harry, as they walked down to Hagrid's after supper. "Hagrid was very clear. You don't insult them."

"He was crystal clear," confirmed Emmalee-Grace.

Hermione nodded. "They can ask the entire class. We all heard him tell us not to insult hippogriffs."

Ron knocked on the door to Hagrid's hut, as the four of them prepared to do what they could to help Hagrid. Emmalee-Grace just hoped they wouldn't get into too much trouble because they were out after dark. After all, a convicted murderer was after Harry. Her hand came up and tightened around her raven necklace, just before the door opened.

* * *

So, that's the sixteenth chapter. Another glimpse into the mysterious past of Emmalee-Grace Lunaris, with that dementor, and with her tea cup. I can promise that the next chapter will include boggarts! And it will be longer!

As for the questions you left me in reviews, unfortunately, I have only one answer for both of them. You're going to have to wait and see! I know, I'm being evil that way. I promise at least one of those questions will be answered by the end of third year.


	17. Boggarts and Black

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Seventeen: Boggarts and Black

Keeping a careful eye on Professor Snape, who seemed to be an especially foul mood, Emmalee-Grace quietly helped Neville fix his potion. What was with him, today? She couldn't risk asking him. When he took five points from Gryffindor for Neville's corrected potion, however, it took everything she had to bite her tongue.

She took care to make sure she was the last one out of the room. Once everyone else had left, she turned to him, giving a hesitant smile and a wave. She couldn't miss the tired expression that had fallen on his face.

"Emmalee-Grace, ten points to Gryffindor for being able to fix Mr. Longbottom's potion. But keep that between us," remarked the Potions Master, before he strode out of the room, himself.

Emmalee-Grace smiled a little wider and hurried to catch up to Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

* * *

"Defense has got to be better this year," muttered Harry. "I mean, you can't get worse than Lockhart, can you?"

Ron nodded.

"He wasn't _that_ bad," countered Hermione.

Emmalee-Grace appeared to ignore her, hiding her nose in the book Lupin had assigned for them. "So, we're actually covering a lot of Dark creatures this year. Certainly Darker than those Cornish Pixies."

Hermione's retort was cut off by Lupin's entrance. Harry and Emmalee-Grace exchanged a confused look when the professor told them to put everything away.

"A practical lesson?" Emmalee-Grace hissed.

Harry merely shrugged.

The confusion in the class only grew when Lupin led them into the staffroom. Most students had never even bothered to peer through the door, much less try to enter. No teacher appeared to be present, except one.

Professor Snape rose from his chair as they entered. He sneered at Neville, before striding towards the door. He paused only long enough to deliver a snide warning about Neville before swooping out of the room.

However, Professor Lupin seemed to have a higher opinion of Neville, asking him to step forward first.

"Now, then, we're going to start with something fairly simple," stated Lupin, motioning to the wobbling wardrobe. "Nothing too serious. Just a boggart."

Neville's face had gone dead white. Other students began looking at each other, nervously.

"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is? Hermione?"

"A shape-shifter," answered Hermione. "It will take the shape of whatever will frighten a person the greatest."

"Indeed, but today we have an advantage. Do you think you could tell us what it is, Harry?"

Harry blinked, before answering. "Since there's a whole group of us, and we all have different fears, it won't know which shape to pick."

"Exactly," replied the professor. "Now, the best way to defeat that boggart is to turn it into something humorous. Sometimes this can happen on accident, when a group faces a boggart. Caught between a headless corpse and a flesh-eating slug and ending up half of a slug? Very humorous, and not very frightening. However, if on your own, there's an easy charm. _Riddikulus."_

The class chorused. "_Riddikulus_!"

"Excellent. Now, Neville, come a little closer. You're going to help me demonstrate."

Neville trembled so much as he stepped forward that Harry was surprised he didn't fall over.

Several moments later, the whole class exploded with laughter to see Neville's boggart, Professor Snape, dressed in Mrs. Longbottom's clothes. Each of the other Gryffindors darted forward at their name to take on the boggart. However, when Professor Lupin called for Emmalee-Grace to step forward, no one was there. Instead, it was Harry next against the boggart. Lupin stepped in between them before instructing Neville to finish it off.

As they left the staff room and headed towards the classroom to collect their bags, Harry noticed there was no sign of Emmalee-Grace at all. She appeared to have vanished into thin air.

With a resigned sigh, he lifted up her bag and carried it back to Gryffindor Tower, along with his own.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace kept to herself a great deal over the next several weeks. She spoke only when spoken to, and she avoided everyone as much as possible. Harry was actually on the verge of using the Invisibility Cloak to sneak down and visit Sev, to get his advice.

Then, the first Hogsmeade weekend arrived. While the rest of their year and those above them left for the village, Harry turned to find Emmalee-Grace hovering at his side. She didn't seem to want to speak, but at least she appeared to want his company.

Neither of them wanted to pass through the Common Room to reach the dormitory, and there really was no reason for either of them to visit the library, at present. Instead, Harry found himself leading Emmalee-Grace towards the Owlery. They were almost there when they were intercepted by Professor Lupin.

"Harry and Emmalee-Grace, why don't you come in to my office? I'd like to speak to both of you," stated the professor.

Emmalee-Grace sat quietly, listening to Harry and Lupin discuss why Harry hadn't been allowed to face the boggart. Naturally, most people _would_ assume a resurrected Voldemort would be Harry's greatest fear. Even she had to confess a bit of surprise to learn it was really a dementor that frightened her foster cousin the most.

"And you, Emmalee-Grace. I've been hoping to ask you why you disappeared that day." Lupin looked over at her.

She didn't even look up from her tea. "There is no way to make my boggart funny. I couldn't even face it. I may be in Gryffindor, but there are some fears I just can't face."

Lupin sat quietly for a moment, studying her.

"Your worst fear, it has to do with what happened before you came to live with Virgil and me, doesn't it?" Harry asked, cautiously. "I mean, we don't know a lot about what happened. But you don't talk about it, either. Ignoring it won't make your past go away, Emmalee-Grace. Avoiding it won't erase the fear. Virgil would tell you the same thing. It's what I want to do. I want to be able to face that boggart, myself."

"A very wise statement, Harry," added Professor Lupin.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Professor Snape, bearing a steaming goblet.

Emmalee-Grace took this as a cue to leave. Reluctantly, Harry followed her.

"See you at the feast, professors," he remarked.

* * *

"Here you go, Emmalee-Grace. I got as much as they'd let me get," stated Hermione, dropping a canvas bag beside her friend.

"Droobles! Hermione, you're the best!" Emmalee-Grace gave a smile.

After their visit with Professor Lupin, she was behaving more like herself. She'd actually discussed several ways Harry could make a dementor-boggart into something far more humorous. But she still hadn't said much about her own boggart.

Ron unloaded a huge armful of candy onto Harry, all of it in various types and flavors.

"Got as much as we could carry for you," he commented, tossing the bag of coins back to Harry. "Don't worry. I didn't spend it all. Most of this stuff they were giving out, since it's the first weekend."

"That way, they'll sell more in the coming weekends," remarked Hermione, wisely.

* * *

The Halloween Feast was filled with laughter from the students. Several third years were only too happy to gloat about their recent excursion to the younger students. The best parts of the feast, in Emmalee-Grace's opinion, however, were the ghostly performance of Nearly-Headless-Nick's botched beheading and a spooky poetry recital by some of the other ghosts.

Harry smiled in relief as Emmalee-Grace chatted happily with Hermione. The dark cloud that had hung over her head after the boggart lesson seemed to have finally lifted.

They joined the crowd outside the Fat Lady's portrait. At first, it just seemed everyone might be taking their time trying to enter the Tower. But the crowd still wasn't moving. Over the murmurs, Percy Weasley could be heard, demanding to get through. After all, he _was_ Head Boy.

"Someone, go get Professor Dumbledore, immediately!" Percy exclaimed. "Everyone else, back away from the portrait hole!"

Before anyone knew it, Dumbledore was making his way through the crowd of Gryffindors.

Emmalee-Grace went pale, her hands tightening around Harry's arm as they caught a glimpse of the destroyed portrait. Her grip grew even tighter as Peeves arrived and informed them it was Sirius Black who had attacked the Fat Lady.

The shocked Gryffindors found themselves being ordered back to the Great Hall by the headmaster.

"I hope they catch him," muttered Emmalee-Grace.

* * *

"I just don't get it. I mean, surely he figured out it was Halloween. None of us were up in the Tower," whispered Hermione.

Harry nodded, silent.

"You'd have expected him to come bursting in here," added Ron.

Emmalee-Grace frowned. She could think of a reason for Black to get into Gryffindor Tower on Halloween. What better way to lie in wait, then attack? She bit her tongue, not wanting to scare anyone. Instead, she turned her attention to the students around them. Theories over Black's miraculous entrance flew back and forth, finally forcing a snort of laughter from the raven-haired girl.

"Are we the _only_ people in the castle to really read _Hogwarts, A History_?" Hermione scowled over at Emmalee-Grace.

"Apparently," replied her best friend. "I don't think anyone knows how many protections are actually on the castle. At least, not among the students. And all the Apparition wards, and now that those dementors are guarding the grounds…"

A shiver ran down her spine as she thought of those creatures.

Hermione nodded. "And Filch knows about all of the secret passages…"

It was then that Percy declared lights out and darkness descended on the Great Hall.


	18. Werewolves and Grims

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Eighteen: Werewolves and Grims

Emmalee-Grace turned to look at the door to the Defense classroom, along with everyone else. Harry ran into the class, ten minutes late. She was sure Wood had detained him again, something that wouldn't have been a problem if Professor Lupin had been teaching class that day. Instead, Professor Snape had arrived to be their substitute. Within the next minute, Harry had lost fifteen points from Gryffindor.

While Hermione tried to inform the Potions Master of their place in the class syllabus, Emmalee-Grace slid a note over to her foster cousin.

_It's Hogwarts. You can't keep expecting him to act like he does at home, just because he's subbing for Prof. Lupin. You can't keep forgetting that! Play the game!_

He gave a slight nod before crumpling up the note.

"Today, we will be discussing werewolves," declared Snape. "Page 394 in your books, now!"

"But we're supposed to be starting Hinky Punks, Professor," declared Hermione, trying again to correct him.

Professor Snape ignored her, turning his attention onto the lesson.

* * *

"What was with Snape, today? I mean, it was worse than normal," muttered Hermione. "Don't you think?"

Emmalee-Grace didn't answer. Annoyed, the bushy haired girl looked up to find her friend working on their astronomy homework.

"What is it with Professor Sinistra and the annual lunar chart?" The quill flew across the parchment as she scribbled furiously. "We know these by now."

"Emmalee-Grace!"

Hermione's shrill exclamation pulled the other girl out of her homework. "What?"

"What did you think of Defense, today? And Snape's attitude?" Hermione glared at her.

"Chances are he probably got asked at the last minute to cover class for Professor Lupin." She shrugged. "As for the topic, there's a chance he chose werewolves because today's the full moon. What I want to know is how you're doing on that translation for Ancient Runes. I've got a couple I'm not sure I got right."

* * *

"For once, I'd say Slytherin's the smart house!" Emmalee-Grace pulled her hood back over her head, thankful for the charm Hermione had placed on her glasses and Harry's. She was sure neither of them would have seen a thing, otherwise. "Only an idiot would want to play Quidditch in this weather!"

Hermione nodded, mutely.

"Oh, come on! It only makes it more of a challenge," retorted Ron.

However, the weather didn't seem to be dampening anyone else's spirits. Students had flocked to the Quidditch Pitch for the first game of the year. Contrary to whatever she told Hermione and Ron, part of the raven-haired girl did want to be out on the pitch, playing against Hufflepuff. Not as a seeker. That was Harry's position. No, she'd much rather be a Chaser.

She finally relaxed, allowing herself to enjoy the game, despite the weather. As had become her habit, her eyes sought out her foster cousin, circling the pitch. She hoped the practice snitch she had gotten him had helped.

When he stopped and stared into the stands, she followed his gaze. Unfortunately, the angle didn't allow her to see what Harry had seen. She did, however, see the dementors swarming onto the field. She managed to grab Hermione's arm, just before she heard a woman yell.

_"Leave Emmie alone!"_

The hands closed around her throat. Emmalee-Grace dropped to the ground, her world once more fading to black.

* * *

"Shame about your broom, Harry," stated Ron.

Harry nodded, holding a handful of splintered wood.

"Maybe Virgil will buy you a new one," added Hermione. "I mean, he is your guardian, after all. Isn't that part of his job? What do you think, Emmalee-Grace?"

The raven-haired girl didn't even blink. "Harry, what did you see? In the stands? Just before the dementors came swarming?"

"It was a dog. A large black dog," he muttered. "That's all."

"A Grim!" Ron yelped.

"Nonsense," retorted Hermione. "Harry's still alive, isn't he?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, thanks to Dumbledore."

Harry looked over at Emmalee-Grace. Her gaze had gone distant, while one hand came up to rub her throat.

"You alright, Emmalee-Grace? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will release us, soon," he stated.

She nodded, absently. "I'm fine, Harry."

* * *

No, you are not imagining things! I did indeed post two chapters at the same time! Although, I have to admit, this is probably one of the shortest chapters I've written. Since the site wasn't letting me post, you can thank a friend of mine who told me how to get around it. Hence the lack of author's note at the end of the last chapter. All of third year is hand-written, as is the beginning of fourth year. Five more chapters after this one! I just have to finish typing it up. However, I am starting to write out fourth year, so don't expect uploads to come any quicker.


	19. The Map and the Conversation Overheard

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Nineteen: The Map and the Conversation Overheard

"I don't know. Maybe we should go visit Professor Lupin, again, instead," muttered Emmalee-Grace "Dumbledore did warn us that Invisibility Cloaks won't fool dementors, remember?"

Harry glared at her. "You may not want to visit Hogsmeade, but I do. And I'm willing to risk it."

With a sigh, she let Harry pull the cloak over her, heading towards the castle gates. They were intercepted, however, by none other than Fred and George. The twins smirked at the invisible duo before pulling them into an empty classroom, removing their Cloak.

"Took us forever to decide it was time to pass it on," said Fred. George nodded "The very secret to our success. But you need it more than we do."

They handed a battered parchment to Harry.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Harry waved the blank parchment.

Emmalee-Grace frowned. She took it from Harry. It appeared to be just that, an old, blank piece of parchment.

"It's enchanted, isn't it?" She glared at the twins.

They exchanged a knowing smirk.

"Indeed it is, Emmalee-Grace," George replied.

Fred stretched out his wand and tapped the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry and Emmalee-Grace stared in amazement as it unfolded into a map of Hogwarts.

"The Marauders' Map." The twins grinned. "Our mentors and our idols."

"Well, and the Impish Rogues, too," added Fred. "But they didn't leave behind anything like the Map."

* * *

They found Ron and Hermione browsing the shelves at Honeydukes.

"Saving my Droobles for later, then?" Emmalee-Grace demanded, walking up behind Hermione.

Her best friend whirled around.

"How did the two of you get in here?" Ron demanded, looking over at the crowded entrance.

"It's a secret," answered Harry. "Tell you later."

* * *

Emmalee-Grace took a sip of the amber liquid. "So this is butterbeer. Perfect for a cold afternoon."

"Definitely," agreed Hermione. "I know you shouldn't be here, but I'm glad you came anyway. And not just because I can make you carry your own Droobles."

The two girls laughed, looking over at the two boxes full of the magical gum.

"Emmalee-Grace," hissed Harry, as he dove under the table.

Several Hogwarts professors were entering the pub. Most notably, however, were Hagrid, McGonagall, and Flitwick, who were joined by a round man in a lime green bowler hat. The four of them quickly sat at the counter.

"Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic," explained Harry, when Emmalee-Grace joined him under the table.

Hermione quickly moved one of the pub's Christmas trees, hiding all four of them from view.

"Dementors in my pub, Minister? Bad, no, terrible for business," declared Madam Rosmerta, as she moved to deliver their drinks.

"I'm sorry m'dear, but we do have an escaped convict to recapture," replied the minister.

"Black's not about to come strolling into Hogsmeade. What reason would he have?"

The minister motioned his companions closer. "Harry Potter."

"You forget, Rosmerta, that Sirius Black is Harry Potter's godfather," added McGonagall. "James's best friend until he betrayed them."

Flitwick nodded. "The Potters went into hiding, using a very powerful charm, the Fidelius Charm. James insisted that Sirius Black be the Secret Keeper."

"And then he sold them to You-Know-Who," concluded the Minister.

"Knew he was goin' away, he did." Hagrid spoke up. "Wen' to get 'Arry from what was lef' of the house. Sirius told me to take 'Arry, when I told 'im it was Dumbledore's orders. Told me to take 'is bike, too. Loved tha' bike, 'e did. Said 'e wouldn't need it anymore."

"Because he was going to Azkaban." McGonagall nodded. "Remember Peter Pettigrew? He confronted Black that night and got himself killed because of it."

The minister shifted in his chair. "They only found a finger. That's all Black left of him. Killed twelve Muggles who happened to be watching at the same time."

Emmalee-Grace reached over and grabbed Harry's hand. Her foster cousin had gone pale, almost white. She gave his hand a squeeze, her grey eyes meeting his emerald ones. Harry took a deep breath and swallowed. He nodded back to her.

"Pettigrew. He was the one always following James and Sirius like a lost puppy, wasn't he?" Rosmerta asked.

"Indeed," was McGonagall's reply.

Flitwick spoke up again. "It's probably for the best Mia and Selene disappeared. Who knows what they would do to Black."

"Especially Mia. She never did like him," mused McGonagall.

"Lily's friends, they'd make Black pay for betraying Lily," added Rosmerta. "Mia with those hexes of hers and Selene would poison him. I remember them. What a trio they were."

"But they both vanished, back in 1979," stated McGonagall, sadly. "If they hadn't, James and Lily might still be alive."

"Because Lily woulda picked Mia to be Secret Keeper." Hagrid sniffled. "Yeh know she woulda."

Eventually, the professors and the minister left. Harry and Emmalee-Grace emerged from under the table.

"Why didn't he tell us? You know Virgil had to have known." Harry glared at the table top. "Why didn't he tell us? Why didn't he tell _me_?"

"Probably because he wanted to protect you," observed Hermione.

Harry trembled slightly as he pulled Emmalee-Grace back under the Invisibility Cloak.

"We'll see you back at the school," whispered Emmalee-Grace.

* * *

"Harry, we can't just go barging in there. How are you going to explain it? Hmm? 'Yes, we snuck down to Hogsmeade, where we just happened to overhear the professors talking about Black?' That'd go over real well with him, Harry." Emmalee-Grace folded her arms and blocked his path.

He returned her glare. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Wait a few days. Just until Christmas holidays. It'll be easier to get down to his office. There's less chance of being interrupted. Then, you can say that Hermione and Ron overheard. They waited, debating whether or not to tell you. They finally did, and you came down to ask him about it. Ron and Hermione had every reason to be in Hogsmeade and hear them. We didn't."

Harry paused, considering her alternative. "You won't keep me from getting those answers, Emmalee-Grace."

"No, I'm just trying to keep you out of trouble."

* * *

There you go. Another chapter is finished! So, how is Sev going to handle the coming confrontation with Harry? You'll just have to wait for the next chapter to find out!

I've been having a little trouble getting started on planning out fourth year, so I may not update for a while. I'd like to stay a little ways ahead, at least for a while. Unfortunately, the three side stories to this one keep intruding. Since they're full of spoilers for this story, I'm trying to hold off on them, until I get up to about seventh year. My other Sailor Moon fanfiction has been after me, too. Not to mention my wrist has been hurting, making it difficult to type, unless I want to start hunting-and-pecking the chapters, and that will take forever! So, until my next post, I beg for your reviews. I'm on my knees, pleading for them! Please, please, please! Review!


	20. Another Christmas

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Twenty: Another Christmas

"I'm going out for some air."

It was the second day of the holidays and Harry had finally had enough waiting. He wrapped his cloak around him and left the Gryffindor common room.

Ron and Hermione stared after him, worried.

"I'd better go keep an eye on him," stated Emmalee-Grace.

She fled up the stairs to her dorm, grabbing her own cloak. With a wave to Ron and Hermione, she fled the common room. She ran to catch up with Harry, just as he entered the dungeon.

"You're not going to stop me from getting my answers, Emmalee-Grace," he reminded her, gruffly.

She shook her head. "I want to hear his explanations, too, Harry. Besides, I know a secret passage to get to Sev's office. He told me about it last year, when I asked him about my necklace. He said to use it if we came down without Aconite."

"Really?" Harry drawled, unconvinced.

She smirked over her shoulder as she walked over to a narrow alcove, which held a suit of armor. Tapping one of the bricks on the side, which was slightly lighter in color, she revealed a door behind the armor.

"Well, come on!" She waved at him.

He followed after her. "If you knew about this, why did we wait?"

"Because, this way, most of Slytherin has gone home and there's less of a chance any professor will drop by to visit. If they do, Sev gets more warning."

"Something else he told you last year?"

She nodded. "Sorry. I probably should have said something. It's just, every time I thought about it, we were always with someone else. Even Ron and Hermione still don't know the truth about Sev."

"That's true. But, remember, my dad even kept it from his own friends, according to Sev. And I doubt Ron or Hermione would believe us, anyway."

The passage ended behind a tapestry. Carefully, Emmalee-Grace slid it aside, revealing the darkened office of the Potions Master.

"He's not even in?" Harry demanded, incredulous.

Emmalee-Grace shook her head. She pointed over to a closed door. A light emerged from underneath it. She walked over and knocked.

The door opened, revealing Sev, dressed again in jeans and a green sweater.

"What can I do for the two of you?"

The anger he had felt, that day in Hogsmeade, rose up as Harry stepped forward. "You can tell us the truth about Sirius Black."

Sev's eyes widened. He motioned them into the other room. It turned out to be a well-lit parlor combined with a small library. Emmalee-Grace swept over and claimed a dark green armchair beside the fire. Harry quickly sat in the other. Sev nodded as he stepped over to the dark emerald sofa.

"Aconite, tea for three, if you will," remarked their guardian before he looked over at them. "What do you know about Sirius Black?"

Harry quickly relayed what he had learned on the Knight Bus and from Mr. Weasley.

"But, last Hogsmeade weekend, Ron and Hermione overheard some of the professors talking down at the Three Broomsticks," added Emmalee-Grace, when Harry paused for breath. "About Black being the one to betray Harry's parents. They let it slip this morning."

Sev rose and walked over to lean against the mantle. He stood there for several moments, watching the flames.

"I don't believe it," he said, finally.

Harry and Emmalee-Grace both turned to him, confused. Aconite chose that moment to appear with the tea. Sev accepted a cup, draining it before sinking back onto the sofa.

"It never made sense, not twelve years ago, and not now. At Hogwarts, there was no one, and I mean _no one_, more loyal to James than Sirius Black. Even I couldn't make that claim. I'd chosen to go to Slytherin over Gryffindor with him, after all. And, yes, I _chose_ Slytherin. But Sirius had chosen Gryffindor. The Blacks actually are a family well versed in the Dark Arts. But, even at school, Sirius was determined to show he was nothing like them. He hated the Dark Arts," explained Sev. "He would never have willingly sold out James and Lily."

Harry stared at him. "But, if that's true, then what _did _happen?"

"I don't know, Harry. Sirius was never given a trial. But I do know, while I was spying on the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's followers, I never saw anyone who even remotely could have been Sirius Black among them. His younger brother, yes, but not him. But I was never called to testify, and I couldn't just step forward. No one would have believed me."

"So, you think Sirius Black could really be innocent?" Emmalee-Grace asked.

Sev nodded. "It's possible. In fact, I'd say it's more likely than him betraying James. Someone else knew. Someone else sold them out."

"But no one would believe any of the three of us if we said anything," remarked Harry, sadly.

"Indeed."

Aconite looked up at them. "You just have to find Sirius Black first. Get the truth from him."

"We'd never get close enough," declared Emmalee-Grace, impressed with the house-elf's wise suggestion. "Though you do have a point."

* * *

Christmas morning found the two of them back in Sev's parlor. Once again, it was early enough that Ron and Hermione were still asleep and wouldn't miss them.

"I know about Potions, but how are the rest of your classes going?" Sev asked.

Harry shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. Defense is definitely more interesting than the last two years. Professor Lupin is really pretty good. We're learning loads, except for the days you take over the class. You really seem to have it out for him."

"It's expected of me. It's all part of the game." Sev smirked.

"And I love Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Divination's a laugh and a half. Hermione still disagrees that there should be an elective Potions class," added Emmalee-Grace.

Their guardian laughed. "But what would I teach in it? Don't go wishing extra work on me, Emmalee-Grace!"

"I didn't think of it that way. Though someone else could always teach it. You know, the class could be something that would go more in depth, like how potions have changed over the years, or working with experimental stuff, or other potions you aren't allowed to cover in regular classes."

"Save that for after your graduation! I think you'll be quite good in a Potions field."

She gave a shy smile at their guardian.

"Now, for your presents," the man declared.

Harry shook his head. "Tradition, Sev. You get yours first. You know that."

Harry handed over the Potions book he had picked up in Diagon Alley, back in August. With a hesitant grin, Emmalee-Grace gave him a new scarf, so dark green it was almost black.

"Thank you, both of you," he stated.

* * *

Laden down with their gifts from Sev, Harry and Emmalee-Grace trudged back to the Gryffindor common room. Unsurprisingly, Ron was already awake, yelling at Hermione to keep Crookshanks away from Scabbers.

"That rat definitely isn't looking too well," muttered Harry. "Reckon he'll last till summer?"

Emmalee-Grace shook her head. "I'm thinking it's time someone bought Ron a new pet."

"No doubt. By next Christmas, if no one else has," he agreed.

"Come on, Harry, Emmalee-Grace, open the rest of your presents!" Ron yelled.

Harry grinned, leading his foster cousin over to the piles.

* * *

"Do you really think Sirius sent you the Firebolt?" Emmalee-Grace asked, perched on the edge of her foster cousin's bed.

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, does it? I should've claimed that Virgil sent it. I'm sure he'd forge a quick note that I could've stuck with it."

"But, if Sirius didn't send it, if the person who really betrayed your parents sent it to you, it could have been dangerous," added Emmalee-Grace. "You can't trust an anonymous gift, Harry."

"When it comes back that nothing's wrong with it, everything'll be fine," declared Harry.

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "It did look like it was shipped straight from Quality Quidditch Supplies. But that doesn't mean someone couldn't have tampered with it before it was shipped. I'm sure you'll get it back though, in almost perfect shape."

* * *

So, we now know what Sev thinks about what happened twelve years ago. Or at least part of it. I'm hoping to get up one or two more chapters this week, though I'm having a bit of writer's block. Hopefully it will pass soon. I'll also be working a little on my other new fanfiction, for Sailor Moon. It's been bugging me, so I finally broke down and started writing.

Now, all I ask is that you click that little button down there and leave me a review, please? It's free! Doesn't cost you a thing to leave me a little message! Please?


	21. A Patronus or Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Twenty-One: A Patronus or Two

After the events of the disastrous Quidditch game, Harry had managed to persuade Professor Lupin to teach Emmalee-Grace and himself to defend against dementors. How he had done this, Emmalee-Grace still had no clue. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. Regardless, she found herself back in Professor Lupin's office, late at night. She stared at the trembling, locked trunk and then at the enormous brick of chocolate nearby.

"Good evening, Harry, Emmalee-Grace," greeted the professor, closing the door behind him. "We can't use a real dementor for this. I'm sure you understand. I have, however, managed to obtain another boggart. Since that's Harry's fear, you'll stand farther back, Emmalee-Grace. Let the boggart focus on Harry."

She nodded. "I understand, Professor."

"Very well. Dementors can be repelled by a specific charm. I want to make it very clear to both of you that this charm is extremely difficult. Even seventh-year students have trouble mastering it. I've known grown wizards who can't use it."

"We understand, professor," declared Harry. "But we can't have a repeat of that last Quidditch match."

He looked over at Emmalee-Grace as he spoke. He had barely let his foster cousin out of his sight since the match. The few times he had, Hermione had appeared to take over watching her. He was the one who'd fallen over fifty feet off his broomstick for crying out loud. She didn't need him to baby her!

"Very well," stated Professor Lupin.

* * *

"Remarkable, Harry!"

It had been weeks since the lessons had begun. Harry's Patronus had begun to resemble an actual solid form. On the other hand, Emmalee-Grace couldn't even manage a mist out of the tip of her wand.

"It's alright, Emmalee-Grace." Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Professor Lupin did say it's a very difficult spell."

"That isn't it, Harry," she whispered. "I don't want to send the dementor away any more than you do."

He stared at her. At the end of last week's lesson, he had finally confessed why he was having so much trouble. When the dementors came, they allowed him to remember the deaths of his parents. It was the only real memory of them he had, even with all the stories Sev had told them during the summers.

Professor Lupin knelt down next to the two of them. "What do you mean, Emmalee-Grace?"

She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the photo she'd stolen from Harry at the end of their first year.

"When the dementors get too close, I remember the last time I saw Mama."

She turned the picture towards them. Lily Potter stood in the middle of the photo, snow in her red hair. On her right stood another woman, with waist-length black hair. Even more snow rested in her wide, wind-tousled curls. Sapphire blue eyes twinkled with mischief in her tanned, thin, heart-shaped face.

But it was the third woman Emmalee-Grace's finger rested on. She could have passed for Lily's sister. Certainly, they looked more alike than Lily and Petunia, at least in Harry's mind. The woman looked up, smiling, with the exact same pale grey eyes as Emmalee-Grace. Her red hair tumbled out of a messy bun at the back of her head. Paler than her friends, she was no less cheerful.

"Selene Reynolds, my mother," whispered Emmalee-Grace. She looked up, straight into Professor Lupin's and Harry's faces. "You really want to know why I refused to face the boggart in class?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the trunk and flung the lid open.

From out of the trunk emerged a tall man, with large hands and thick arms. He easily could have played Beater for a professional Quidditch team. In one hand, he drug a body, with the same red hair as both Lily Potter and Selene Reynolds.

Blonde hair fell into the man's hazel eyes. Even from several feet away, Harry and Professor Lupin could see the madness lurking there. The boggart threw the body at Emmalee-Grace's feet. Then, he stepped forward, moving towards her. He pulled a wand from his pocket.

Emmalee-Grace stared at him, frozen. She couldn't move her wand, couldn't even utter a sound. Harry leapt forward, pulling her out of the boggart's path as Professor Lupin stepped in front of it. With a flick of his wand, the boggart was sailing back into the trunk in the form of a balloon.

"When the dementors come, I remember the last time I saw him, too," continued Emmalee-Grace, sinking to the floor. "He'd been after Mama for years. He wanted her to marry him, but she refused. Just after I turned five, he tried to kill her. They took him off to Deadwater. It's the American version of Azkaban. Unfortunately, Americans believe in giving second chances, especially to the wealthy."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Emmalee-Grace, you don't have to tell us."

"He was released. He got a good lawyer and he was a model prisoner while they had him. Mama and I had moved around to a lot of towns in New York, for years. We never stayed in any one place more than a couple of months. Even while he was in prison, she kept moving us. She didn't want him to get close enough to try again."

"But he did, didn't he?" Professor Lupin inquired, softly.

She nodded.

"That's why you showed up the way you did." Harry's eyes widened. "Your mum managed to get you away from him."

"He found me, first. The bruises, everything, was from him. He was sure I was the reason Mama had refused." Tears shimmered in her eyes and fell down her face. "I couldn't tell Virgil. Mama made me promise, when he left prison, that I wouldn't talk about him. I was so scared he'd follow me to England."

She found both of her hands grasped in Professor Lupin's. He looked directly into her eyes.

"What was his name, Emmalee-Grace?"

"Malcolm. Malcolm Lansford."

* * *

After her revelation, Emmalee-Grace and Harry had been sent back to Gryffindor Tower. Professor Lupin had assured Emmalee-Grace that he wouldn't contact Virgil about the information, but he would speak to Dumbledore.

"The headmaster may be able to find out if anything happened to your mother, or what has become of Malcolm Lansford. Especially with their names to use."

"Mama kept changing our last name so he couldn't find us. I don't know what name she'd be using now."

"That's alright, Emmalee-Grace. It'll be just fine."

As they walked back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"When you first arrived, you were going to use a different last name. You were going to use Reynolds, weren't you?"

She stared at the floor. "But Mama made me promise to never use that name. It was for our own protection."

"And so you refused to tell Virgil."

"I didn't want Lansford to hurt him. He hurt anybody who came between him and Mama," she confessed.

* * *

The next week, the two of them stood before Harry's dementor boggart.

Instead of focusing on hearing her mother's voice, Emmalee-Grace thought back. Sev's face immediately swam forward. His reaction when they had returned to Spinner's End, last June, had made her feel safe, loved. She had to admit, she had finally felt that she belonged with Harry and Sev, that day. For the first time in her life, she had truly felt safe, that nothing could really hurt her, anymore. Nothing could have made her feel happier, except to see her mother again.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Professor Lupin stood back and watched as both of them cast the charm. He saw the faint form of a stag in Harry's Patronus. But it was the large silver raven that Emmalee-Grace unleashed that really had him smiling.

* * *

There's the most recent chapter. Finally, we know what happened to Emmalee-Grace. But what happened to her mother? You'll just have to wait and see! Since I have every thing already written out, I am debating about combining the next two chapters into one, making for a longer update. However, if I do combine them, it may be a little longer for the next one. I've only got three more chapters written after this one. The beginning of fourth year is really giving me some trouble!

Just one question for you people! Who says Emmalee-Grace has to be Sirius's daughter? Just asking! You don't have to answer that.

I'm not sure how often I'm going be updating for a while. My grandfather's coming to visit on Monday, and I don't know how long he's staying with us. So, I may be unable to get to update. I'm not entirely sure. I'll update if I can, but we'll see! Until the next chapter, please review!


	22. Victories, Explanations, TimeTurners and

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing around in her world. Emmalee-Grace on the other hand, belongs entirely to my imagination.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Victory, Explanations, Time-Turners, and Departures

Emmalee-Grace threw her arms around her foster cousin's neck.

"You did it! Gryffindor's won the House Cup!"

He grinned at her enthusiastic response. He could hardly believe it, himself. Though, the best part had been seeing the smug, superior smirks wiped off the faces of the Slytherins.

The Gryffindor Common Room had exploded in celebration. Even McGonagall seemed willing to let the Gryffindors party all night.

"Even Percy got into the spirit, this match." Ron managed to tell his friends. "Didn't you hear him at the end of the match? He was completely beside himself!"

"What do you expect? Gryffindor has the best players and Harry's got the best broom on the market!" Wood declared, having overheard their conversation. "Well done, Harry! You won us the cup!"

Harry shook his head, emphatically. "It was really all due to that insane training of yours, Oliver."

The Quidditch Captain's grin grew even larger, before he disappeared into the partying crowd. He missed the wink Harry sent to Ron, Hermione, and Emmalee-Grace.

* * *

"Tonight's Buckbeak's execution," muttered Hermione.

"I still don't understand how you managed to misplace that Map, Harry," hissed Emmalee-Grace. "It'd be extremely dangerous if someone else got a hold of it!"

He sighed. "I know, Emmalee-Grace. I know!"

"Do you think we should go see Hagrid?" Ron interrupted. "I mean, show support before they kill Buckbeak?"

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "After all the research we did, I can't believe they're still going to execute him."

"Hagrid against Lucius Malfoy? Hagrid didn't stand a chance," stated Harry, sadly. "You've never met him, Emmalee-Grace. I have, unfortunately. Cold, but he's got money and power, even if he's no longer a school governor."

She nodded, rising from her seat. "Go get the Cloak, Harry. Let's go see Hagrid. I'm sure he could use all of his friends tonight."

* * *

"Scabbers!" Ron exclaimed, scooping up his rat.

Of course, the discovery that his rat was still alive provoked another fight between Ron and Hermione.

"Are they ever going to get along, again." Emmalee-Grace groaned.

Harry shrugged. Before he could reply that they had never really gotten along, however, Hagrid was ushering them out the back door of his hut.

"Go. Get back to the castle," ordered the large man. "Before they see yeh and yeh get in trouble."

Under the cloak once again, the four of them hurried toward the school. They paused, looking back just as the executioner lifted his axe.

Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder. Emmalee-Grace clenched her hands until her knuckles went white. Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The axe descended and she lost the battle against them. They fell freely from her eyes, leaving wet trails down her face.

Ron let out a startled yelp. "I just got bit! By Scabbers!"

He chased after the rat he had dropped, followed by his friends. He managed to catch the escaping rodent. Harry moved to pull his friend back under the cloak, only to be stopped by Emmalee-Grace. She shoved her foster cousin out of the way as a branch of the Whomping Willow descended.

Harry, Emmalee-Grace, and Hermione hurried away from the mad tree just in time. However, a large black dog appeared out of the falling night.

"A Grim!" Ron let out another strangled yelp.

The dog ignored the trio standing there. Instead, it grabbed Ron, dragging him through a gap at the base of the Whomping Willow.

The three friends tried to get close enough to chase after them. The tree was having none of that. It wasn't until an orange blur streaked by them that the tree froze. Crookshanks had managed to sneak out of the castle. The cat had his front paws against a knot on the tree, apparently freezing it in place.

"You wonderfully brilliant cat!" Emmalee-Grace praised as they ran past.

Harry laughed. "He's obviously just as brilliant as his owner."

Hermione just shook her head, a faint blush creeping over her face. They tore down the underground passage, hoping they weren't too late.

* * *

"It's the Shrieking Shack," whispered Hermione. "It has to be."

Emmalee-Grace nodded. "But I don't think ghosts are caused all of this."

"Poltergeists, more likely," decided Hermione.

Harry followed the drag marks in the heavy layer of dust. In a bedroom, just off of the main room, they found Ron. The red-haired boy was on the bed, his leg at an awkward angle, his rat still in his hands.

"Harry, get out of here!" Ron yelled.

The three of them turned as the door closed. A much dirtier, more haggard Sirius Black stood there.

"No one's going anywhere," he declared.

* * *

Sev walked up towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The goblet in his hand steamed madly. Glancing out the window, he let out a sigh of relief. The moon hadn't risen yet. He forced back a curse at the students who had delayed his departure from his office. He swept down the hall and knocked on the door to Lupin's office. Hearing no reply, he opened the door, cautiously. Lupin was no where to be seen, but a piece of parchment was spread across his desk.

Sev hurried around to look at it.

"The Marauder's Map," he whispered, reverently, his eyes darting across the grounds, searching for Lupin.

The goblet dropped from his hand as he saw, first Harry, Hermione, and Emmalee-Grace disappearing off the edge of the map, and then seeing Lupin disappear down the passageway underneath the Whomping Willow. Not wasting a second, he flew from the room, literally. With a 'pop,' Sev had been replaced by a raven, who fled through the open office window.

He dropped to the ground beside the tree, grabbing the abandoned Invisibility Cloak after he changed back. A wave of his wand sent a stick flying up the press the knot to freeze the tree.

* * *

Hermione stood between her friends and the escaped convict. Harry was frozen. Could he dare believe Sev was right? Dare he demand an explanation from Sirius Black? Beside him, Emmalee-Grace seemed to puzzle over the same questions.

The door behind Sirius burst open, Lupin running through, his wand out.

"Where is he, Sirius?" Lupin demanded.

Hermione glared, pointing her wand at both of them. "Stay back. I should never have trusted you!"

"He's a werewolf," explained Emmalee-Grace, calmly. "That was the Wolfsbane Potion that Professor Snape brought you."

The professor nodded.

"And before the potion, you transformed here, didn't you? I saw the claw marks," added the raven-haired girl.

"One of the brightest witches of your age," commented Lupin.

The door creaked open again, but there was no one there.

Ron cringed away when Lupin approached.

"I'm just going to help you, Ron," explained the professor.

Hermione shook her head even as Ron yelped for him to stay away. Harry looked back and forth between the professor and Sirius Black. There had to be more going on here than they thought. Maybe Sev was right after all. Maybe someone else had betrayed Harry's parents.

"Well, I'll get the glory of turning you in, Black," sneered a voice.

Sev dropped the Cloak, his wand pointed at Sirius.

In a flash, Emmalee-Grace made up her mind. She threw herself between Sirius and Sev.

"No!"

"Move, Miss Lunaris," ordered Sev.

Lupin moved towards her. "Emmalee-Grace, please."

She folded her arms and glared at the Potions Master. "No. _You_ said it didn't make sense. _You _said someone as loyal as Sirius Black would never have betrayed his friends. Here's your chance to get the explanation you wanted. So, why don't you ask for it?"

"Emmalee-Grace is right, you know," added Harry. "That _is _what you said."

Ron, Hermione, Lupin, and Sirius stared at him.

"When did he say that?" Hermione demanded.

"Please, Sev, you owe my dad that much. Hear the explanation," pleaded Harry, stepping up beside his foster cousin.

Slowly, Sev lowered his wand. "Very well. But only because it's the two of you asking."

His statement only seemed to bring more confusion.

"The Weasley boy has him," stated Sirius, finally. "To answer your question, Remus."

Ron's confused look grew.

"May I have your rat, please, Ron?" Lupin asked.

"Why?"

"Because he's not what he appears to be," explained Sirius.

Reluctantly, Ron offered up the rat. It squealed and frantically tried to escape. Lupin reached out ant took it, firmly.

"I take it you know the spell to force an Animagus to reveal himself?" Lupin asked, looking over at Sev.

He nodded, raising his wand and pointing it at the rat. A flash of light came from both his wand and Lupin's. Scabbers vanished to be replaced by a rat-like man.

"Peter Pettigrew." Sev's voice was filled with disgust.

"He's the one who sold James and Lily out," explained Sirius, loathing dripping from his voice. "They agreed when I suggested a switch. I was the obvious choice. Voldemort would come after me, and Peter would be safe. I wish I'd agreed with James. We should have waited until he could get Virgil to be Secret Keeper."

Sev blanched, but he said nothing. James had wanted him to be Secret Keeper?

"Why, Peter?" Lupin demanded. "James was your friend. We all were. Moony, Wormtail, Nevermore, Padfoot, and Prongs, the Marauders forever."

"You don't know what he's capable of," squeaked Peter. "He'd have killed me!"

"Better dead than responsible for the deaths of your best friend and his wife," yelled Sirius.

The convict tried to snatch the wand out of Sev's hand.

"For your betrayal, we ought to kill you, ourselves," added Lupin.

"Wait!" Harry yelled. "As my dad's friends, you know this isn't what he would have wanted!"

Sev nodded. "Harry's right. Besides, kill Pettigrew, rat though he may be, and it's certain you'll return to Azkaban."

"Why are you helping us?" Sirius demanded. "You hated us at school. I doubt that's changed."

"Things aren't always what they seem." A mysterious half-smile crossed Sev's face.

* * *

Unfortunately, even Sev seemed to have forgotten that it was a full moon that night. He hurried the children towards the school even as Sirius changed into a dog to hold off Lupin. In the confusion, Pettigrew vanished. A flash of light from Sev's wand shot after the rat. The Potions Master had no time to see if his spell had hit. Lupin had managed to get past Sirius and take a swipe at Sev. His enlarged paw smacked the side of Sev's head, rendering him unconscious. Sirius darted back in, forcing Lupin to run off into the woods.

"Harry!" Emmalee-Grace exclaimed.

Harry turned to see the dementors swooping towards them.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A fragile mist emerged from Harry's wand as he tried, repeatedly, to conjure a Patronus. Emmalee-Grace searched frantically for her wand. It had fallen from her hand as they tried to escape Lupin.

The darkness closed in around them.

Emmalee-Grace heard her mother's voice, screaming in her ears. Suddenly, it cut off

"Dad?"

She heard the whispered question from Harry as she saw the large, silver animal charge across the lake. The dementors fled. She and Harry found themselves collapsing.

* * *

(It was supposed to end here, just to let you know!)

* * *

Emmalee-Grace opened her eyes, waking to the sound of Harry, Hermione, and Ron trying to explain the truth to the Headmaster.

"But Snape was there!" Ron protested. "He helped reveal Scabbers! I mean Pettigrew!"

Hermione nodded. "It doesn't make any sense."

A glance at her foster cousin had Emmalee-Grace nodding. Harry's hand rested over his watch. He looked up and caught her eye. She recognized the signal. The Game had to continue, especially since Pettigrew had escaped.

Dumbledore merely looked at them. He didn't appear at all concerned with the fact that an innocent man was about to be given a fate worse than death.

"Miss Lunaris, Miss Granger, I believe the two of you know what must be done." The twinkle in the headmaster's eye grew brighter. "Remember, you cannot be seen. I trust you may save more than one innocent life this night. Three turns ought to be enough."

With that said, he strode towards the doors. "I'm going to lock the doors behind me."

Ron and Harry looked confused. Hermione stared at Emmalee-Grace, her eyes widening.

"Of course!" The bushy-haired girl jumped out of her bed.

"Sorry, Ron. With that leg, you can't come with us," added Emmalee-Grace. "Alright, Harry. Let's go."

He rose and walked over to the both of them, still confused. Emmalee-Grace pulled the long thin chain out from under her shirt, throwing it around all three of them. Hermione caught the small hourglass in her hand, turning it. Darkness engulfed them briefly. When he could see again, Harry looked around.

"Where's Ron?"

Hermione pulled both of them out of the Hospital Wing. After a quick glance around, she shoved them into the nearest broom cupboard. Once inside it, Emmalee-Grace quickly reclaimed the necklace.

"You wanted to know who we could take so many classes?" Hermione hissed. "That's a Time-Turner."

"It can take us a few hours backward in time. Thus, we can be in more than one class at the same time," added his foster cousin.

Harry blinked. "So, we've gone back in time?"

He glanced down at his watch. The hands had indeed spun back three hours.

"So, right now, the four of us would be on our way to Hagrid's, before Buckbeak's execution."

"Of course!" Emmalee-Grace grinned. "He wanted us to save Buckbeak, too!"

Harry and Hermione stared at her for a few seconds.

"What? It makes sense, doesn't it? We 'may save more than one innocent life?' Why else would he send us back three hours?"

"And Sirius is up in Flitwick's office, which is in the North Tower, and it has a window," muttered Harry. "We save Buckbeak and then we use him to save Sirius."

"It'll put Sirius on the run again," stated Hermione, sadly.

Harry nodded. "But at least he'll still have his soul, and he can search for Pettigrew."

Nodding to each other, they snuck out of the cupboard and down towards Hagrid's.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace waited with Hermione, back at Hagrid's hut. Even with her wand in hand again, she was still reluctant to get too close to the dementors. Besides, if it really was, by some miracle, James Potter who had saved them, his reunion with Harry should be a private thing.

"Do you really think Harry saw his dad?" Hermione finally asked.

Emmalee-Grace shrugged. "It's possible. Don't give me that look, Hermione. I just said it was possible. I didn't say it was likely. It's more likely he saw himself, you know. But he would have seen himself for a reason. If he hadn't seen himself, would he have been able to do it for real?"

Hermione blinked. "You've been thinking about this."

"Since just after we came back in time," she said, shrugging.

"I don't know if you heard. Snape changed his version of events. He was attacked when he entered the Shack. He said he doesn't know which person attacked him. He regained consciousness after we left the Shack and right as Professor Lupin was transforming. I don't get it. Then again, he wasn't acting himself in the Shrieking Shack, either," explained Hermione. "Do you know why?"

"No, I don't." Emmalee-Grace's tone left no room for argument. "Are you still going to try and keep the massive class load, next term?"

"Changing the subject on me, are you?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't think I can," sighed Hermione. "You saw what I did to Malfoy. Not that he didn't deserve it, but still. Are you?"

"No, I don't think I am."

* * *

"It wasn't my dad after all," remarked Harry as the three of them flew towards Flitwick's office. "I conjured the Patronus! I really did!"

Emmalee-Grace smiled before flinching. "Not so tight, Hermione. I'd like to breathe!"

Slowly, the other girl's death-grip loosened, until Buckbeak turned around a tower.

"The sooner we grab Sirius and land, the better," she muttered in her foster cousin's ear.

He nodded. "There's the window, now!"

* * *

A few minutes later, all four of them were safely on one of the castle's walkways.

"You two really are a pair of the brightest witches of your age," remarked Sirius, with a chuckle.

Harry grinned. "Try living with Emmalee-Grace all summer. At least I know I'll get my homework done."

"I'm sorry, Harry. You should have been living with me," stated his godfather.

"It's alright," answered the teenage boy. "Virgil's not that bad. I could have still been with the Dursleys, after all."

Sirius grinned as he climbed back onto the hippogriff. "You are more like James and Lily than you know, Harry."

With that, he took off into the night.

* * *

Leaving his friends back in the Great Hall, Harry ran towards Lupin's office. He shoved the door open.

"You can't leave, Professor," he panted.

Lupin smiled. "It's alright, Harry. I've gotten used to moving on."

"But you're the best Defense professor we've had, regardless of your condition," added Emmalee-Grace, running in behind Harry.

"But parents won't trust me. You'll see. However, I do have something to return to you." The professor walked back over to his desk and picked up a battered piece of parchment. "I was quite surprised to see it left under your desk after class, Harry. Although, before I give it back, there's something I need to do."

He tapped the Map several times, moving it around the parchment.

"There. Mischief Managed!"

He handed it back to Harry.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

The writing and the map appeared, as usual. However, something had changed.

"Messrs. Moony, Nevermore, Padfoot, and Prongs?"

"We mentioned Nevermore quite briefly the other night, I thought. He was the unofficial fifth member of the Marauders. He was a raven Animagus, but we never knew his real identity. He'd show up in raven form and he'd send us messages, always signed Nevermore."

"'Quoth the raven, Nevermore,'" said Emmalee-Grace. "It's Edgar Allen Poe. But he's an American poet."

"Apparently Nevermore was a fan." Lupin nodded. "Since Wormtail betrayed us, it's only right that his name is removed and Nevermore put in his place. I'm sure Padfoot and Prongs, or as you know them, Sirius and James, would agree with me. Now, off you go. Get back to the feast. I'm sure I'll see you again. And, Emmalee-Grace, I'll do what I can to help find your mother."

"Thank you, Professor."

* * *

Ron cradled his new owl protectively as they moved through the crowd at King's Cross Station. Harry had to bite back a laugh. He could tell Ron was already happier with his new pet, especially after Crookshanks seemed to approve of it.

"There's Virgil!" Emmalee-Grace exclaimed.

Indeed, their guardian was standing next to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, talking quietly.

"Ah, there you are!" Mr. Weasley stated, spotting Ron and the others. "We were just talking with Virgil. A pity we haven't gotten a chance before."

Virgil smiled. "Indeed. A true pity. Arthur informed me that he's gotten tickets to the Quidditch World Cup, this summer. The two of you are invited to go with them."

"Really?" Harry and Emmalee-Grace chorused.

"Indeed. The match is in the end of August, the 25th, precisely," supplied Mr. Weasley.

"I'll drop them off," promised Virgil. "The Burrow, in Ottery St. Catchpole, you said?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "We could come and get them."

"Nonsense. We'll be perfectly fine. I doubt we'll have any trouble finding it," declared their disguised guardian. "Now, we really must be off."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and one on Emmalee-Grace's head. They walked off from the Weasley family. But they didn't head to the alcove where Virgil always Apparated.

"We have some place else we're going this summer. I was supposed to take you last summer, actually," he explained.

He walked them through the barrier between platforms four and five, much the same way one entered Platform 9 3/4. On the other side, Harry and Emmalee-Grace looked up at the smoky grey engine. Only one car was attached to the engine, however.

"Welcome to Platform 4 5/6. Not many people know it exists, and fewer yet know what's at the journey's end," stated their guardian, dropping his disguise. "All aboard!"

* * *

And that ends chapter twenty-two, which was supposed to be both chapters twenty-two and twenty three. However, I decided to combine them together, since I was feeling generous. Don't expect chapters this long very often. (This has easily become the longest chapter I've ever written!) The best part of writing this chapter was looking up the date for the Quidditch World Cup and realizing it was on my birthday! How's that for interesting?

I finally broke writer's block on the first official chapter of fourth year, only to run into it again on the other side, so it may be a while for the next chapter. Hopefully, it will be before the end of the week, but I make no promises. The best bet will be no later than the end of the month.

Also, I finally broke down and fixed the end of chapter four. As an anonymous reviewer, xy, stated, Sev's punishment of accidental magic didn't seem right. I had quite a debate over putting it in, as it wasn't in my original draft. So, I finally went back and cut it out. I feel better now. It just took me a while to get around to doing it.

Well, see you in the next chapter!


	23. Mageheart Manor

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Severus Snape, or any of the other canon characters. Emmalee-Grace and a few others, however, are figments that have managed to escape from the confines of my imagination.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Mageheart Manor

Several hours had passed since Sev had ushered them into the single car behind the grey engine. Their guardian hadn't said much, insisting that they complete as much of their homework as possible.

"But why, Sev?" Emmalee-Grace had demanded.

He had given a slight smile. "There are many other things waiting for you, this summer."

Halfway through his Potions assignment, Harry slammed his book shut. "What exactly is going on, Sev? What did you mean, you should have taken us here last summer? Where are we going?"

Sev looked up from the book he had been reading, but he refused to answer. Instead, he gave a pointed look towards the closed textbook.

"Come on, Sev! Tell us!" Emmalee-Grace pleaded, closing her own textbook.

"Very well. We are going to Mageheart Manor. It's where your grandmother grew up, Harry. It's been in their family for generations."

"Mageheart? Isn't that the family that taught the four founders?"

Harry stared at his foster cousin. "What?"

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin were all trained by a wizarding family called the Magehearts," she explained. "But the four of them, upon completing their studies, decided to form their own school."

"Indeed. The Magehearts only taught those who could afford to pay them. Hogwarts was, and still is, open to all. Even after Hogwarts opened, some families, especially purebloods, still sent their children to the Magehearts. Eventually, Hogwarts became preferable, and the Magehearts gave up teaching. At least out of Mageheart Manor. Over the centuries, a few have taught at Hogwarts," added Sev.

Harry laughed. "Including you!"

"Yes, including me."

"So, why were you supposed to take us there, last summer?" Harry pressed.

"The summer after a Mageheart descendant turns thirteen, they are supposed to go to Mageheart Manor. There are a select few magics that the Magehearts didn't teach to anyone outside of their family. There are a few notable exceptions. The founders of Hogwarts learned more than any others. But with Sirius Black escaping last year, I wasn't sure it was wise to disappear."

"But we can't use magic outside of school, and I'm not a Mageheart descendant," protested Emmalee-Grace.

Sev gave another slight smile. "You have, however, shown potential for their magics. As for the no magic, Mageheart Manor has most of the same protections as Hogwarts, plus several others that no one else knows about. The Manor is even more hidden than Hogwarts. The only reason we didn't go last year was so that we could be found by Dumbledore or the Ministry, if they decided to check up on Harry and make sure Sirius hadn't gotten to him."

"I have the potential?" A frown crossed her face. "How many witches and wizards walking through Hogwarts have the potential?"

"There aren't very many. I've never seen one with as much potential as you, Emmalee-Grace." Sev shrugged. "However, there is one rule about this summer. You can't tell anyone what you learn. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Sirius, no one. Understood?"

Harry and Emmalee-Grace nodded.

* * *

Harry and Emmalee-Grace stepped off the train and stared up at the manor. The entire place was a shimmering white, something Harry was sure was only accomplished with magic. Manor was most definitely a misleading term for the place. It was a small castle! It was nowhere near as large as Hogwarts, but that didn't bother them. There were five main towers, one in each corner of the castle and one taller one rising from the castle's heart. It stood overlooking the cliffs, not unlike Potter Cottage.

"There's a path along the cliff that leads down to the beach," commented Sev, pointing to a large group of rocks. "Just on the other side of those boulders. There's also a Quidditch Pitch out back, a complete Potions lab in the dungeons, as well as a couple smaller labs set up in other places in the castle."

"Really?" Emmalee-Grace's face lit up.

Sev nodded as Aconite appeared, opening the main doors to the castle.

"Master Sev, welcome back!" The house-elf bowed. "The rooms have already been prepared."

"Thank you, Aconite."

Two more house-elves materialized on either side of Aconite. The one to his left had a bright copper-colored patch on his head, almost like hair. His eyes were a bright, vivid blue. In spite of the bath towel he wore like a toga, Harry couldn't help but think that that's how a house-elf belonging to the Weasley family would look.

The other appeared far younger than Aconite or their companion. She was dressed in an emerald green pillowcase that was slightly too big for her small frame. However, the color matched her eyes perfectly.

"Coppertop, it has been a while," greeted Sev.

The older house-elf bowed. "Welcome back, Master Sev. And this must be Master Harry. I served your father, Master James, and now I will serve you. Whatever you need, you have only to ask."

"This is Wince," declared Aconite, motioning to the younger elf. "She will look after Mistress Emmalee-Grace."

Wince gave a slight curtsey. "The pleasure is mine."

"Well, then, I'll let Coppertop and Wince show you to your rooms." Sev gave another of his half-smiles, disappearing with Aconite into the castle.

* * *

Emmalee-Grace gave her bed a test bounce. "I could definitely get used to this!"

"Your supper is here, Mistress Emmalee-Grace," called Wince.

She jumped down off the bed, looking around. Everything in her bedroom was decorated in dark blues, with silver accents. Even the thick, fluffy carpet was navy with silver stars. The bed rested several feet of the floor, resulting in the wooden steps beside it to climb up onto the mattress.

Just through the door, painted dark blue on the side that faced her bedroom, she entered a small sitting room that could double as a study. Here, the color scheme had changed. Shades of green dominated the room, with hints of bronze. Another door, opposite her bedroom, led to a small potions lab, or so Wince had said. The door was currently locked.

"Master Sev told us, if we let you in there tonight, you'd never come out," commented Wince. "He'll give you the key tomorrow."

_Sev knows me too well_, thought Emmalee-Grace, drifting over to the small table before the fireplace.

* * *

Up in the northern tower, Harry dropped back onto his own bed. Unlike Emmalee-Grace's suite, his rooms were arranged one on top of the other, with his bedroom on the top floor. His window gave him an excellent view, out over the ocean. Below him was what Coppertop had referred to as his study, with an extremely large, open room under that.

"Excellent for flying, isn't it?" Coppertop had remarked. "Master James had a similar room, actually, for bad weather Quidditch practice."

Harry had nodded, but he thought the room might be better suited to Defense Against the Dark Arts practice, if he could rig up some opponents.

The color schemes, though, had him a little confused. His bedroom had been decorated in emerald green and gold, while the study was crimson and silver, reminding him of the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, currently resting in Dumbledore's office. Coppertop had refused to explain, stating he'd leave that to Sev. Harry had the feeling his guardian would soon be answering a lot of questions.

* * *

After breakfast, which had also been served in their rooms, Harry and Emmalee-Grace were led down near the Manor's dungeons. Coppertop reached up and knocked on an emerald green door. A winged snake, made of bronze, stared down at them.

"Enter!" Sev's voice came from the metal creature's mouth.

"I think that's a wyvern," confessed the raven-haired girl. "But why does Sev have one on his door?"

Harry shrugged. "Just another question to add to the list."

She laughed as she followed him into what was obviously Sev's study.

The bronze wyvern from the door was repeated throughout the room, though inside it had been changed to silver. Most of the room was also decorated in dark blues and silver. Emmalee-Grace was reminded of the scheme in her bedroom. Although, it seemed he preferred birch for wooden accents, rather than silver for all of them. The white wood had been used for the tables and for the two doors leading off his study. The setup was, in fact, remarkably similar to Sev's study in Hogwarts, except for the color scheme.

Sev opened the door at the back of his study, dressed in his normal summer attire. It was considerably more colorful than his black robes he wore while teaching.

"How do you like your rooms?" Their guardian grinned at them.

Emmalee-Grace grinned. "They're fabulous. They'll be even better when I get the key to my potions lab."

"A potions lab? That's you alright, Emmalee-Grace." Harry chuckled. "I appreciate the large empty room. I'm hoping I can get some real Defense practice in there. But Coppertop said you would have to explain the color schemes."

"The magic you will be learning this summer is tied to the elements and the language of specific animals. The color schemes of your rooms reflect what I have seen as your strongest potential abilities. For example, your ability to speak Parseltongue, Harry, and I've noticed Emmalee-Grace seems to understand Avaritongue."

"Avaritongue?"

"The language of birds," he explained.

Harry nodded, remembering how the birds at the zoon had flocked to her. Hedwig and Asphodel seemed more comfortable around Emmalee-Grace than they did anyone else, too.

"Now, if you'll follow me, there's someplace else I need to show you. I need to confirm some suspicions before we can begin lessons." Sev beckoned them out of the room.

* * *

"It's huge!" Harry yelped.

Emmalee-Grace grinned. "It's Hermione's version of heaven."

Her foster cousin nodded. It was amazing what was contained in the tallest tower in the heart of the castle.

"Welcome to the Mageheart Library. There's a copy of every book ever written, somewhere in here." Sev walked over to a small door, near the entrance. "There are two ways to get information quickly in the library. You can call for the library-elf, who you'll meet shortly, or you can use Sources."

He opened the door, revealing a small, circular room. The grey stone walls were completely bare. An empty wooden podium stood in the center of the otherwise empty chamber.

"This is Sources. All you have to do is walk up to the podium and ask Sources a question. If he can answer it, he will. It's very rare for Sources to not have an answer to a question. Now, let me introduce you to Page."

At the name, another house-elf appeared. She was dressed in a clean, white, linen pillowcase. A pair of pince-nez sat on her beaky nose.

"You're a house-elf!" Emmalee-Grace exclaimed.

She sniffed. "I prefer the term library-elf. I specialize in looking after all of these books, and I take care of Sources."

"Page's family has looked after the library since before the days of the Hogwarts Founders." Sev nodded to the elf. "And they have done so admirably."

The elf blushed slightly. "Is there anything specific you require, Master Sev?"

"Page, this is Harry, James's son, and Emmalee-Grace, my ward. They'll both be studying the elemental magics this summer. And I'm sure Emmalee-Grace will be in the Potions section as often as she can."

"Potions section?" Emmalee-Grace whirled to stare at him. "A potions section? Where?"

"There is a section here for everything. Potions, Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms. You name it, we have a book on it somewhere," declared Page.

Harry smirked. "So, if I wanted to study to be an Animagus…"

"You'll wait until next week," interrupted Sev, "when I begin teaching you how to obtain your first forms."

"First forms!"

"Yes, first forms. A student of the Mageheart magics will eventually have a total of four Animagus forms, as well as a family nickname, which is where we'll begin."

* * *

Harry stared in confusion at the items on the table. An onyx badger wrapped himself around the base of a bowl filled with dirt. A bronze eagle perched on top of an empty glass jar. Another bowl, filled with water, was encircled by a silver snake. A candle flickered in a golden, cat-shaped candlestick.

"The four elements, earth, air, water, and fire, and their respective animal partners. We already know one of yours, Harry. Water and the snake. Now, I want you to close your eyes."

Reluctantly, the boy did as he was told. He could hear the four items being shuffled around, in front of him.

"Now, I want you to reach out and find the two that are calling to you," ordered his guardian. "Empty your mind and focus only on the voices that you hear."

Slowly, cautiously, Harry extended his hand. There was a faint whispering that seemed to grow stronger as his hand moved. Listening to those whispers, he found the smooth bowl wrapped by the snake easily enough, but he wasn't sure where to reach, next.

"Listen to them, Harry. Listen carefully."

Keeping his eyes closed, he did his best to listen.

_Chimera!_

_**Chimera!**_

**Chimera!**

Harry's hand brushed the other items, touching them with only his fingertips. The voices again grew fainter and louder as he moved his hand. When the voices grew the loudest, he reached out and took the object before his hand.

"Interesting," stated Page, who had been watching the ceremony.

Harry opened his eyes. The cat-shaped candlestick was in his hand.

"Actually, I'm not surprised," countered Sev. "What name did they call?"

"Chimera," answered Harry. "I heard them calling me Chimera."

Sev nodded. "Very well. Chimera it is. Emmalee-Grace, your turn."

Harry watched as his foster cousin closed her eyes and Sev shuffled the four objects around. Their guardian gave an unsurprised nod as her first choice was the eagle topped jar. Far quicker than Harry had, he was sure, she found her second choice, the snake bowl.

"Phoenix," she declared, even before opening her eyes.

"But the elements she picked are air and water. Phoenixes are creatures of fire," protested Harry. "I've seen one!"

Page nodded.

"Your nickname doesn't necessarily reflect your elements, Harry. It refers more to your abilities and your personality. By the name, perhaps they refer to Emmalee-Grace rising from the ashes of an old life and beginning a new one. Or perhaps they feel she has a distinct talent that would lend itself to learning the healing magics," explained Sev.

It made sense when Sev put it that way.

"Now that I've confirmed your elements, I can better plan your lessons. Emmalee-Grace will have it easier than you will, Harry. Not only do water and air work together better than water and fire, but my own elemental abilities are water and air. James was fire and earth."

"What was Dad's nickname? Judging from your rooms, yours was Wyvern."

"Griffin. We called him Griffin."

* * *

Harry was surprised when Sev's lessons included learning about all of the elements and their abilities. He had expected lessons to focus on fire, water, and air, ignoring earth. After all, neither of them had shown an aptitude for it.

"Just because your strongest bond is with those elements doesn't mean you can ignore the others. You can still use their magics, just not as easily." Sev lectured when Harry asked. "Each element has its own distinctive connections to modern magic. For example, the element of Earth displays itself in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. Those who have aptitudes for these classes are drawn to the element of Earth. It doesn't seem like they use a lot of magic, but it just works differently. The animal language attached to earth is called Loamtongue. Almost every animal can speak it, which, I'm certain, is part of the reason Hufflepuff became the catch-all house."

"Because Helga Hufflepuff was of the element of earth," interjected Emmalee-Grace, happily.

"Correct. Earth tends to be more welcoming and understanding. The element of air is more common in the classes of Charms and things like Arithmancy. The language, as I said earlier, is Avaritongue. Fire is more common in the classes of Transfiguration and Astronomy. They favor the language of Meozletongue."

"Water is Parseltongue," interrupted Harry. "Right?"

"Exactly, and the classes connected to water are Potions and classes more like Ancient Runes. Those with water tend to have extremely good memories. Water students also tend towards Defense Against the Dark Arts, which, for you, Harry, is also strengthened by your connection to Fire."

* * *

Emmalee-Grace snuck through the shelves of the library. Sev had gone to check on a potion he had brewing in the dungeons. He'd given them several books, instructing them to become familiar with their elements and their respective traits. However, she had something else she needed to do, first.

She pushed open the door and entered the room with the podium Sev had called Sources. Cautiously, she approached the wooden pedestal.

"If Sev's right, you can answer any question, Sources. Where can I find my mother, Selene Reynolds?"

The podium emitted a blue glow and began to hum. A piece of parchment unrolled across the stand. Words slowly appeared across the paper, in a deep royal blue.

"Mourninghill Cemetery, Morrisfield, New York, US of A."

Tears filled Emmalee-Grace's eyes and she fled from the room, not bothering to look back.

* * *

The first week flew by, with Sev teaching them more about how to control simple elemental spells. Eventually, he explained, some of the simpler ones they would be doing without the need to use their wands. Harry was looking forward to cause candles and fires to light with a wave of his hand. He'd once, however, tried to refill his glass at supper by calling the water across the table. It had lifted out of the pitcher and begun moving across the table towards him. However, half-way there, Emmalee-Grace had shifted her chair and he had lost his concentration. All three of them had been splashed as he dropped the stream of water. Emmalee-Grace hadn't been able to stop laughing for several minutes, leaving her gasping for breath. However, both Sev and Harry had been relieved by the sound of her laughter. She'd been far too solemn recently.

With a finger snap, Sev had collected all the water back into the pitcher. "I think you need a little more practice with that one, Harry."

"Yeah, I think so, too," A splash of red had colored Harry's face as he stared at the table.

* * *

Now, at last, Sev was going to begin their Animagus lessons.

"You'll each see four forms, one for each element. The first one should be the one you'll find the most comfortable. That's the one we'll use to being our lessons," he explained.

He handed each of them a goblet, filled with a clear liquid.

"Drink up!"

Harry's eyes drifted shut, as soon as he'd finished drinking the potion.

-8-

_He stood on the cliffs, near Potter Cottage, staring out over the ocean. Something brushed his leg, causing the boy to jump. He looked down to see a small black cat with emerald green eyes and a thin, white lightning bolt on it's forehead. The cat blinked and ran away, chased by a black snake, with the same white lightning bolt and green eyes. A noise came from behind him, drawing his attention. A stag bounded out from a stand of trees, with Harry's eyes and scar. A screech from over head alerted him to the dark eagle flying across the sky._

-8-_  
_

_A raven perched on her arm, looking up at her. Emmalee-Grace reached out and stroked it's feathers. Movement near her feet drew her attention. A black cobra slithered across the grey cement of a path through Central Park. The snake retreated quickly as a black panther leapt across her view. A splash heralded the appearance of an otter, who waved merrily from a nearby fountain._

-8-_  
_

"A cat and a raven? That's where we'll start, then. At least the water moccasin and the cobra will be easier."

"Water moccasin? Is that what that snake was?" Harry demanded.

Sev nodded. "From your description, yes, that's what it sounds like."

"What are your forms, Sev?"

He grinned at Emmalee-Grace. In quick succession, he shifted into a king cobra, a raven, a stag, and a white tiger.

"Impressive," declared Harry, awed. "I can't wait to be able to shift that well!"

Sev's smile was even wider as he resumed his own form. "Before you ask, James's forms were a lion, stag, owl, and coral snake. Although, he preferred his stag form over his lion form."

"And you prefer the raven over the king cobra, right, Nevermore?" Harry grinned.

* * *

Alright, I'm back! At least for a little bit. The next chapter will involve the Quidditch World Cup and the introduction of a few new characters. I'm thinking I might just do fourth year in a couple of chapters, once I get them written. Fourth year is being extremely difficult. I'm not entirely sure why. I do know things will really be changing once I reach fifth year, though. I can't stand Umbridge, so don't expect her to be around!

I do apologize. Everything's been a bit crazy around here. My sister announced she was pregnant, so we had to help her and her boyfriend move into their apartment, and then it was help get ready for the baby and the baby shower. Then, I found out I had to get my wisdom teeth taken out, the week after the shower. And then, my graduating class decided to hold a five-year reunion that I went to, for some strange reason. Anyway, I'm still trying to work on this, and I hope to update again, soon!

Edit: Forgot to mention that Morrisfield, N.Y. is my creation. As far as I know, no such town exists! Thanks!


	24. A Wyvern's Perspective

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Severus Snape, or any of the other canon characters. Emmalee-Grace and a few others, however, are figments that have managed to escape from the confines of my imagination.

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Wyvern's Perspective

_With no class and no detention to oversee, he patrolled the corridors. He would have much rather been down at the Quidditch pitch, watching Harry play. Especially after that incident with the Bludger and that idiot Lockhart. But they were playing Hufflepuff, and so he had no excuse. With Slytherin's monster on the loose, whatever it could be, every teacher was on their guard to the slightest mishap. Well, except for Lockhart. Why in the world had Dumbledore hired that fool? What, in the name of Merlin, had he been thinking? Surely, even with the curse or jinx or whatever it was, he could have taken DADA for the year, returning to Potions. That would have been better. Probably easier to find a temporary Potions professor than to find a new DADA professor. Maybe he could ask Slughorn to come back for a year?_

_He turned the corner, finding himself down the corridor from Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Suddenly, said ghost came flying out, screaming at the top of her lungs._

"_An attack! An attack in _my_ lavatory!"_

_Sev raced down the corridor, towards the wailing ghost. When he turned into the washroom, he saw the student, lying on her back on the floor, a look of shock on her familiar face._

"_Emmalee-Grace!"_

Sev jerked awake, his dark eyes wide. He struggled to catch his breath. Even now, a full year later, he was still reliving that afternoon. At least it was better than last summer, and especially the time between her attack and her recovery. Then, he'd had dreams he hadn't found her Petrified. Instead, he'd found her dead.

He thought, by now, he'd be used to disturbing dreams. After all, he still occasionally relived finding James and Lily at Godric's Hollow, after Black and Hagrid had left. To see his two best friends lying dead like that, well, it had been a good three years before he'd gotten a good night's sleep, he was sure. And after his visit to Privet Drive to collect Harry? At least two months before he could assure his subconscious that Harry was safe.

And he still had occasional nightmares about the end of their first year, seeing both of them in the Hospital Wing after they went after the Stone. At least he hadn't seen the state Harry had been in, after escaping the Chamber and killing the basilisk. Though, imaginings of those events plagued his nights, when he wasn't rediscovering Emmalee-Grace in that lavatory. He was starting to think he'd never get another good night's sleep, especially as long as they were in his charge.

He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face.

"A glass of water, Master Sev?" Aconite inquired, already next to the bed, a glass in his hand.

"Thank you, Aconite," Sev took the offered drink, sipping slowly as his heartbeat steadied. "What time is it?"

"A little past dawn. I haven't yet checked the clock," replied the house-elf.

Sev waved his hand, dismissing the elf. "No, that's fine. That's close enough."

He rose, knowing sleep would not return. Instead, he dressed and walked into his potions lab.

Various vials covered the shelves, each carefully labeled, most of them in Aconite's patient hand. There were a scattered handful that bore Harry's writing, but most of the ones he'd labeled were emptied now. On the other side of the room, there were jars upon jars of potions ingredients, bags of various herbs, and, of course, a selection of stirring rods, measuring spoons, and the rest of his tools. Cauldrons hung on hooks from the ceiling, categorized by metal and by size. He bypassed all of it, heading for the bubbling cauldron on the work table.

Carefully, he removed the Stasis Charm he'd placed on it the night before, releasing it from its time-frozen state. He stirred it, adding three drops of a blood-red liquid, the juice of a Sunset Berry, and a few dried and crushed leaves of wolfsbane. Sunset Berries weren't commonly found, anymore. Most apothecaries didn't even know the berries existed. However, generations of Mageheart descendants had kept the Manor's gardens and greenhouses, and all of the various herbs and other plants alive and growing.

Taking a small spoon, he lifted out only a little of the potion. He carried the spoon carefully over to a small petri dish, containing a dark grey-and-silver swirled, cloudy substance, like a pool of melted silver. Slowly, he poured the potion into the dish. He waited, watching the mixture, but there was no change.

"Serum 769, unsuccessful," he muttered, crossing back over to the worktable. He lifted the leather-bound journal from its position next to the cauldron, marking the handwritten potion with an 'F'.

"I knew this potion would be tricky, but not this tricky." Sev flipped to a new page. "Seventeen years of research, ten years of experimentation, and still no closer to a cure." He slammed the journal shut, turning away from the worktable.

He walked back into his bedroom. The early morning light was pouring through the now open window, bringing with it the chill and the early morning fog. He stepped over to the window, taking a deep breath, trying to clear his head. Sighing, he stepped away, back to the stand he kept by his bed.

A handful of photos rested there. Harry sat, surrounded by wrapping paper, Michael kneeling beside him, at Harry's ninth birthday party. Emmalee-Grace stood beside Aconite, working on a stew for supper, last summer. Both of his charges flew across the frame, chasing each other around the Mageheart Quidditch pitch. James waved, one arm wrapped around Lily's shoulders, at their wedding. He reached past them, to lift out the one he kept hidden in the back.

Red hair fell around a laughing face. Her eyes were closed and one slender hand was covering her mouth as she fought to stop laughing. She wore a Hogwarts uniform, displaying her undone Gryffindor tie. Her other hand clutched a copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_.

He gave the photo a soft, sad smile, before he returned it to its place. "I could really use your help figuring this out, Lady Night."

Shrugging out of his black word robe, he began making sure everything would be ready for the afternoon's lessons. Both of them were ready to attempt their first Animagus transformations that day.

* * *

Lunch was a quiet affair. It normally was, unless Harry had received a letter from Sirius Black. Even Sev had been amused by the large, tropical birds that had delivered the letters. He knew, despite his cheerful tone, Harry was still worried about his godfather. It was hard not to be, what with the idiots at the Ministry refusing to listen. And Emmalee-Grace, she'd barely spoken at all, these past few weeks. Then again, it was going on four years now, and still no word of her mother. He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to think they never would find her.

Aconite walked in, carrying the day's mail, a letter from Ron for Harry, a letter from Hermione for Emmalee-Grace, the usual pile of potions-related mail for hi. But flipping through everything, he came upon a small envelope, addressed to Virgil Netherson. Perhaps, finally, some news.

He flipped the envelope over, sliding a finger under the flap to open it. However, it was not news about Emmalee-Grace's mother. It was, though, the response he'd been waiting for from someone else.

_Virgil,_

_I can't tell you how thrilled I was to receive your invitation. I would only be too glad to meet you in London on the first of August. I can only hope you are correct, and Harry will be equally pleased to see me. I'll meet you at King's Cross that morning. Until then,_

_Remus Lupin_

Sev gave a slight smile. His surprise for Harry's birthday would be waiting. Perhaps Remus could help. After all, Remus had to be just as worried as Harry about Black. He tucked the letter back into the stack, ignoring the curious looks from his young wards. They'd find out soon enough.

After lunch, he escorted both of them up to a small room off the library, the room where most of the practical lessons had taken place.

"Alright, Harry, you're up first," called Sev, motioning the boy to the center of the room.

Harry nodded, walking to the indicated position. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Sev watched as his brow furrowed and his hands clenched. Then, suddenly, 'pop!' Harry was gone, replaced by a small black cat with emerald green eyes and a white lightning bolt in the middle of its forehead.

"Excellent! Now, change back."

The cat nodded. It didn't take nearly as long before Harry was again standing in the middle of the room.

"Well done. It will get even easier with more practice," applauded the Potions Master. "Emmalee-Grace, your turn."

Emmalee-Grace wasted no time. No sooner had she taken a deep breath and closed her eyes, she was gone, and a raven was in her place. Turning back, however, was a different story. It took her several tries before she finally managed to revert to her human self.

"Not to worry, little Phoenix. We all have difficulties with our forms at some point in time. But, very well done, both of you. Now, with only a few weeks left before you go to the Quidditch World Cup, I don't think we'll try for second forms this summer. Keep practicing your first forms. Get comfortable in them and we'll try for the others next summer. For the rest of the afternoon, let us turn our attention to Mageheart history."

"Just as long as it's not like sitting through Binns's classes," muttered Harry.

"I heard that," retorted Sev, with a grin. "And don't worry. It's not. Now, we begin in the days before the founding of Hogwarts, before formal wizarding education began. Leif Mageheart was the youngest of three sons…"

* * *

Sev found himself looking forward to the hours after dinner. Evenings found all three of them in what he and James had long ago dubbed the "Hogwarts Common Room." It was decorated in reds, gold, greens, silvers, blues, bronzes, yellows, and black. Gryffindor's lion roared over the fireplace, while Slytherin's serpents supported the torches alongside Ravenclaw's eagles. Hufflepuff's badgers formed the bases for many of the pieces of furniture.

Emmalee-Grace curled up in one of the cushy, dark blue armchairs, a thick volume of ancient potions recipes resting on her knees. Occasionally, she had to shove her glasses back up as they slid down her nose. Her other hand would catch at her hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Harry, on the other hand. Sprawled himself out on the floor, in front of the fireplace. Most nights, he toyed around with his practice Snitch. Tonight, however, he had grabbed one of the older Defense Against the Dark Arts texts.

Usually, Sev read the Evening Prophet or one of his various Potions newsletters. He'd give those to Emmalee-Grace when he finished. Tonight, he pretended to read, instead keeping an eye on both of his charges. He knew this would be what he missed the most, when the end of August came. These quiet, peaceful evenings meant more to him than he would ever admit.

Things weren't perfect. He'd be the first to admit that, but these evenings got pretty close.

Finally, he lowered the Evening Prophet. "I'm surprised no one's asked me yet what we're doing tomorrow."

Both of them turned to stare at him.

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded.

"Well," explained Sev, "tomorrow _is_ August 1st."

Emmalee-Grace's eyes widened. "Already?"

Their guardian nodded. "I thought, perhaps, a break from Mageheart Manor? A trip to London? Especially to Diagon Alley? And I'll let you both pick your presents this year."

"Really?" Before Sev could answer, there was a cloud of black hair in his face and arms around his shoulders, while Harry collected the potions tome Emmalee-Grace had flung aside.

"A trip to London sounds great," added his older charge, still chuckling over his foster cousin's reaction.

"Well, we'd better get ready for bed. We'll want an early start. It does take several hours to get to London," replied Sev, once Emmalee-Grace had released him. "I'll have Wince and Coppertop wake you. And we'll have breakfast on the train."

As the sun crept over the horizon, the three of them made their way back down to the small train station on the Mageheart property. Neither of his charges seemed very awake. In fact, no sooner had she curled up on the seat, Emmalee-Grace was fast asleep. Harry, however, turned and stared out the window, a pensive look on his face.

"Is it just me or has Emmalee-Grace been extremely quiet this summer?" He finally asked. "Or, when she isn't quiet, it's almost like she's trying too hard to be happy?"

"I've noticed," sighed their guardian.

"Have you considered asking Sources about how to find her mum?"

Sev shook his head. "You have to be very careful in asking Sources questions. Sometimes, it doesn't give you the answer you want. You have to phrase it very carefully, in situations like asking where her mother is. Unfortunately, I don't have all the information I need in order to make that query. But that isn't what's troubling you this morning, Harry."

"I wrote Sirius about it. I figured he might know more, and it doesn't hurt to get a couple of opinions," he said, reluctantly. "I had a very odd dream last night, and my scar hurt when I woke up. That hasn't happened before."

"What was the dream?"

Slowly, hesitantly, Harry explained about seeing the Riddle House, Wormtail, Voldemort, and the man called Frank Bryce.

"And the thing in the chair, I knew it was Voldemort, but still, it was beyond disgusting, barely even human," he concluded.

Sev frowned. "I've never heard of anything like this. Though it sounds as if a connection between you and the Dark Lord exists, one that is anchored by your scar. Hence why it pained you. Starting tomorrow, we're going to add another lesson, one I think is far more important than the elemental magics of the Magehearts. You're going to start learning Occlumency."

"Occu-what?" Harry demanded.

"Occlumency. It is the art of shielding your mind, guarding your thoughts against the mental intrusions of other people."

"So, it's making it so people can't read my mind?"

"In simplest terms, yes. Most of those who practice Legilimency, the opposite of Occlumency, don't like the term 'reading minds.' After all, the mind is not like a book, to simply be opened and read. I don't know if learning Occlumency is the perfect solution. As I said, I've never heard of this before, but we're going to give it a shot."

His ward nodded. "I really don't want him inside my head, if we can help it. I don't want to be inside his, either, if it comes to that."

"Harry, I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me."

"Even if, technically, I told Sirius first?"

"Even if you told Sirius first. It's a good feeling, knowing you have people you can trust."

* * *

He woke Emmalee-Grace back up a few minutes later, when Aconite brought their breakfast. It greatly surprised Sev when Harry turned and recounted the events of the dream to Emmalee-Grace, as well as part of the discussion they'd shared, earlier.

"I figure you might as well know. I'll probably need your help if it happens again, either at the World Cup or at Hogwarts," he explained.

She nodded. "I understand. Besides, this Occlumency you're going to teach Harry, it sounds fascinating. Would you mind teaching me, too? That way, I could help, if Harry needs it."

"I would be glad to teach both of you. However, we'll get started tomorrow. There's a few books in the Mageheart library that might help, too," he replied.

As the train slowed to enter Platform Four and 5/6, Sev rose and replaced his guise of Virgil Netherson.

"Are we ready?" Virgil demanded.

Both of them nodded.

He shepherded them off the train and into King's Cross, once more. A grin crossed his face as Harry came to a stop, spotting Remus Lupin standing near Platform 5.

"Good day, Remus! Glad you could make it," laughed Virgil.

Harry looked up at his guardian. "You invited him?"

"I figured you'd like to see him, again. One more reason to come to London."

Remus walked over, waving. "Hello, and a slightly belated Happy Birthday, Harry."

"That's alright. We celebrate today, anyway. Emmalee-Grace's birthday is tomorrow," replied the boy, shrugging, though his cheeks had turned a little pink.

* * *

Virgil spent most of the day hanging back, watching his charges and their favorite professor walk around Diagon Alley. He carried the bag of Drooble's they'd picked up for Emmalee-Grace and the other of Chocolate Frogs for Harry. They'd stopped at Fortescues's for lunch and desert. He'd waved off Remus's objections about picking up his lunch, as well, claiming he'd invited him, so of course, he'd pay.

There'd been a few mundane things, like new school robes for both Harry and Emmalee-Grace, as well as the dress robes they might well need, and he had a feeling they would. He hadn't explained why. After all, how would Virgil Netherson know the Triwizard Tournament was coming to Hogwarts?

They'd stopped into Quality Quidditch Supplies, so Harry could restock his Broomstick Servicing Kit. He'd also noticed Emmalee-Grace wistfully eyeing the brooms. She hadn't come straight out and asked for one, but he could tell. He made a mental note to get her one, eventually. He'd occasionally watched the two of them on the Mageheart Quidditch pitch, with Harry letting Emmalee-Grace fly on his Firebolt, while he took a turn on one of the ancient brooms from the broom shed. She really was a good flyer. Perhaps for Christmas, he'd get her a Nimbus 2000. Yes, the 2001 was faster, but she'd object on principle to owning the same broom as Draco Malfoy, and he really didn't figure she'd need anything as fast as the Firebolt.

He sighed as he thought of his godson. He hadn't seen the boy as often, since Harry had come to live with him, but that had nothing at all to do with it. The last time Draco had come to Spinner's End, he'd ignored the rule about staying out of Sev's potions lab, and he'd nearly blown them all up. After that, Narcissa refused to allow Draco to visit, and Sev never felt comfortable at Malfoy Manor. He'd never particularly cared for Lucius, but he had understood Narcissa, much as he had understood Regulus Black, who had been a year beneath him. Neither of them were truly Slytherins, as most people thought of them, but they weren't brave enough to defy their families like their older siblings, Andromeda and Sirius. Then, again, he suspected a lot of that came down to fearing Bellatrix.

During 7th year, Narcissa had even admitted, if her parents hadn't arranged it, she never would have married Lucius Malfoy. Especially with the differences in their ages.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from reminiscing. The four of them turned towards the Leaky Cauldron for dinner.

"So, you haven't really said what you're doing now, Professor Lupin," observed Emmalee-Grace.

The former professor smiled. "It's alright if you both call me Remus. After all, I am no longer your professor. I'm actually working part-time at a small Muggle bookstore for now. They're making it harder and harder for werewolves to find employment in the wizarding world. Thankfully, it's still difficult for them to prevent us working in the Muggle world."

"For now," added Virgil, scornfully.

"For now," agreed Remus. "But, it's still a job. And it's not as bad as it was twelve, thirteen years ago, when Voldemort was in power, and the years immediately following his fall."

"Really?" Harry demanded.

"Oh, yes. Back then, everyone figured all the werewolves were working for Voldemort, and we couldn't be trusted. For some people, that impression never left. It doesn't help that, until the invention of the Wolfsbane Potion, we couldn't control ourselves during the full moon," he explained. "Well, short of locking ourselves up and praying no one came in until the moon set."

Virgil shook his head. "And so, of course, the rest of the month, you must be just as dangerous. Well, there are some, but they would be dangerous even if they weren't werewolves. People worried after your godfather escaped," he nodded to Harry, "I'd be more afraid if someone else got out of Azkaban. Well, two someone else's. They're both equally insane."

Emmalee-Grace gave him a puzzled look.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, for one" supplied Virgil. "She's tortured people into insanity. As for the other…" He seemed to be avoiding looking at Remus.

The werewolf, however, seemed to understand. "Fenrir Greyback." He spat out the name as if it were poison. "The worst werewolf in the world. He gives us all a bad name, becoming what people fear. He'd position himself to attack children during the full moon. Including me."

Emmalee-Grace seemed to pale. Harry reached out and placed a hand on his former professor's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Remus," he stated.

"No," he acknowledged. "He did it because of my father. He managed to do something to offend Greybackc, and so I became his target."

"The son paying for the sins of the father," sighed Emmalee-Grace, sending a look over at Harry.

* * *

When the three of them finally returned to King's Cross, Harry had received a promise from Remus that he would write more often, letting Harry know stories he remembered about Lily and James and their years at Hogwarts and the few short years afterward. Harry'd gotten several stories from Sev, but he still would like to hear them from someone else's point of view. And he was sure there were things Remus knew that Sev didn't.

Only once they were through the barrier did Sev release his disguise and resume his normal appearance.

"Only a few more weeks until the World Cup," cheered Harry, as they boarded the train to get back to Mageheart Manor.

* * *

Hey, what do you know? Finally, a new chapter of Harry Potter and the Secret Past!

However, if you read the A/N at the end of the last chapter, I have to apologize. I lied. We were supposed to go to the World Cup this chapter, and we didn't. Instead, I gave you a little filler from Sev's point of view. We don't see enough of this, do we? Also, I tried to explain why Sev hasn't just gone down and asked Sources about Emmalee-Grace's mother. I was actually surprised no one asked me why he hadn't. Also, we get an appearance by my other favorite professor, the one and only Remus Lupin! I couldn't resist throwing him in. After all, we don't really get to see him again until Fifth year in the books, so I had to bring him back. Now, hopefully the next chapter does get to the World Cup and doesn't take nearly as long to get put up! I just have a few characters who aren't cooperating. Still, I'm hoping to get that new chapter done soon. Hope this tides you over until then!

Also, for the purpose of this story, Narcissa is the youngest of the three Black sisters, and she graduated the same year as Sev, James, Lily, Remus, and everybody else. Also, I hope you like how I had Sev viewing her, though I'm curious as to what you think.

Just a couple of questions to ponder while you wait. What was he working on at the beginning of the chapter, in his potions lab? And who's this Lady Night?


End file.
